


Finistère

by bookscorpion



Series: Changing of the Light [2]
Category: Shadowrun: Hong Kong
Genre: Angst, Complete, Consensual Non-Consent, Established Relationship, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Rape Roleplay, for resilient readers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-25
Updated: 2019-08-29
Packaged: 2020-01-13 07:26:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18464257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookscorpion/pseuds/bookscorpion
Summary: 'Shut up!' Rhys' voice was a low hiss that cut Duncan to the bone. 'I can't stand talking to you right now. I can't stand looking at you.'A kink scene goes very wrong. Duncan and Rhys have to find a way to deal with the consequences. Takes place afterOut of the Shadows





	1. The Beast In Us All

**Author's Note:**

> Please mind the tags on this one! I will add tags to individual chapters in the AN as needed.

  


Rhys had stopped struggling. With his wrists held high up between his shoulder blades and Duncan's full weight on top of him, he was helpless. Duncan took the chance to slow down, to push his cock into Rhys in an agonisingly slow movement. Just to make it clear that he could, that this would last exactly as long as he wanted it to. 

Next time, he would have Rhys handcuffed, on his back. Forced to watch while Duncan fucked him, made him come. The thought made Duncan shudder and he fucked harder into Rhys, chasing his pleasure. Rhys whimpered softly with every thrust.

Duncan noticed far too late how quiet Rhys had gone, except for little noises clearly forced from him against his will. 'Are you okay?' His lust and excitement at having Rhys submit to him turned to sudden dread. When he didn't get an answer, he rolled off of Rhys, letting go of his wrists, and gently touched his face. 

Rhys flinched and opened his eyes, staring at Duncan. His pupils were so wide his irises seemed pure black. He was breathing fast and made a low keening noise. It spooked Duncan. Something was very wrong.

When Duncan reached out to comfort him, Rhys rolled off the bed in a sudden movement. He sprinted to the bathroom, grabbing his clothes, and slammed the door behind him. Duncan heard the key turn in the lock. He was stunned and had to fight a rising panic. 

Before he had time to figure out what to do, Rhys opened the door again and came out, already dressed. He didn't take any notice of Duncan, almost ran out of the room. Duncan scrambled to follow him, still naked. 'Rhys, wait!'

Rhys had just grabbed his keys and a jacket and was walking towards the door.

'Please don't do this. I'm sorry, I never...', Duncan was cut short when Rhys half turned and he got a look at his face. The murderous rage he saw there frightened him into silence.

'Shut up!' Rhys' voice was a low hiss that cut Duncan to the bone. 'I can't stand talking to you right now. I can't stand _looking_ at you. I'll come back when I'm ready to talk. Leave me alone until then.' Rhys wasn't asking. He didn't wait for an answer. He walked out without a backward glance.

Duncan was frozen in place, his heart racing. He suddenly became aware how much he smelled of sweat and sex. It turned his stomach. He made it just in time to the toilet and vomited until he only coughed up spit and bile. 

When Duncan was done throwing up, he got to his feet unsteadily. His own smell still made him retch. He took a long shower, letting the noise of the water drown out his thoughts. Afterwards, he dressed in fresh clothes, but it did nothing for how unclean he felt. He kept listening for the door, waiting for Rhys to come back.

The sight of the bed with its tangled sheets made his skin crawl. He needed to do something, so he started changing the sheets. How could he have missed Rhys shutting down so completely? 

Knotting the sheets in his hands, he tried to figure out where things had started to go wrong. It wasn’t the first time they had played rough and relied on their safewords. But it had been rougher than usual. Rhys had told him that he was welcome to use force. It had been a standing invitation and tonight had been the first time Duncan had taken Rhys up on it. 

They had been in the middle of making out, already down to the last layer of clothes, everything else thrown blindly aside. Rhys had pushed Duncan's hand away when Duncan had tried to slip it between Rhys' legs.

_Please, don't._ Rhys had taken a pleading tone. Flashing a grin at Duncan's confusion, he had leaned close and whispered to come and get him before getting up. He had backed away, with Duncan coming after him, and he had begged to be left alone, to be allowed to leave. _I know I said I wanted to, please don't be angry..._

Duncan had grabbed him and forced him onto the bed. Subduing Rhys hadn’t presented much of a challenge to Duncan. He was stronger and better trained. It hadn’t taken long for him to have Rhys at his mercy. Duncan had a predator's instinct for weakness and it had been screaming at him to just take what he wanted. He had given in, safe in the knowledge that Rhys could stop him with a word. Still ignoring all of Rhys’ pleas, he had started to pull off what clothes Rhys had left, tearing down the last of his defenses.

Duncan stopped dead on his way to the washing machine, his arms full of bedsheets. Had Rhys been begging for real? The thought took his breath for a moment. But he was sure that at this point, Rhys had still been okay. Rhys had still been _talking_ to him. 

After loading the washing machine, Duncan wandered aimlessly around the apartment. He finally started to take apart his gun to clean it at the kitchen table. This was as close to meditation as he had ever come and it helped a bit even now. 

Duncan had been rough. Since he hadn’t actually wanted to hurt Rhys except for maybe bruises, he had used lube but there had been very little in the way of foreplay. Rhys’ gasp as Duncan had pushed fingers into him had been one of shock and he had struggled harder, trying to squirm out of Duncan’s grip. 

Duncan had forced him to spread his legs wider and had put his full weight on the hand holding Rhys' wrists on his back. He hadn't been sure if Rhys had been holding back, but he hadn't thought so. The feeling had given him a rush of power. With Rhys struggling under him, he had used his free hand to touch himself. Stroking his own cock, he had relished what he was going to do, what he would make Rhys do.

He had shoved Rhys' wrists even higher, making him hiss with pain. _You can either keep still and let me fuck you or I can tie you to the bed, hurt you and then I'll fuck you. I don't care, I'll get what I want._ Duncan's tone had been casual, even a bit amused, and he had known perfectly well how frightening that was. It was the exact tone of voice he used right before he got violent for real, before he actually hurt people.

Rhys had made a last effort to free himself before he had surrendered, panting with exertion. Duncan had taken at least some of his weight off of him so Rhys could catch his breath. The sight of Rhys under him, helpless and covered in sweat, had been delicious. He had been able to feel Rhys' muscles trembling and had allowed him to take his wrists down a bit. When Rhys had just begun to relax, Duncan had shoved his fingers into him again, fucking him in hard thrusts.

Rhys had thrown his head back with a strangled cry. He had begged Duncan to stop, his voice low and shaky, as if he had been close to tears. _Duncan, please. Don't-_

Duncan had snarled at Rhys to shut up and take it and Rhys had fallen silent. When Duncan had pushed his cock into him, Rhys had made a noise and with hindsight, it was obvious to Duncan that it had been in real pain and fear. But in that moment, it had only served to make him fuck Rhys harder. 

He had chased the thrill of hearing Rhys react like that. The little noises and flinches Rhys made without wanting to. Every shuddering breath, every moan forced from Rhys had made Duncan give up control more. It had felt good to not hold back, use every ounce of his ferocious strength. To give free reign to his gift for cruelty and his enjoyment of it. 

Duncan couldn’t say how long it had actually taken him to notice something was wrong. How long he had raped Rhys.

He dropped the gun parts he had been cleaning and pushed away from the table. His hands were shaking too hard to hold anything. He desperately wanted to call Rhys, to try and explain and to apologise. But he knew that it would have been the wrong thing to do. Instead, he closed his eyes and took deep breaths until he was calm enough to finish putting the gun back together. 

The apartment building was quiet. His heart hammered every time someone came up the stairs. But Rhys didn’t come back and as the night went on, Duncan was more and more convinced he wouldn’t see Rhys again. He tried to tell himself that they could survive this and that Rhys at least would want to talk to him. Every time he thought of the rage and disgust on Rhys’ face right before Rhys had left, it got harder to believe.

Duncan couldn’t figure out why Rhys had shut down like that, why Rhys hadn't used his safeword. He realised that he would need Rhys to tell him what exactly had been wrong, but he kept picking his actions apart, trying to find a reason. And the best reason he could find was that Rhys had been too scared of him. Too terrified that Duncan would actually hurt him badly. And he couldn't even convince himself that Rhys had been wrong about this.

Exhausted, but too restless to sleep, Duncan would have liked to go for a walk, lose some of that nervous energy. Maybe run until he was tired enough to sleep. But he didn’t dare leave in case Rhys came back. He paced in the living room until the washing machine was done and softly beeped for attention. With the sheets in the dryer, he filled another washing machine. 

One of Rhys’ shirts had escaped him. He picked it up to throw it back into the hamper. He ended up sitting on the floor with his nose buried in it, breathing in Rhys’ smell. It was like a punch to the gut and he bit his tongue hard to hold back tears. All strength had gone out of him and he just stayed where he was on the bathroom floor. Getting up seemed too much of an effort.

The gentle rumble of the dryer and the steady heartbeat of the washing machine put him to sleep. 

Eventually.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies to everyone who comes here from [Out of the Shadows](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15735564/chapters/36585933), you all were so glad to see them happy together. This _hurt_ to write.
> 
> Chapter title is from Inkubus Sukkubus' [The Beast in Us All](https://youtu.be/H8rYwfjfFvY)
> 
> Cover made by [Crimsonherbarium](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crimsonherbarium/pseuds/crimsonherbarium) \- thank you so much!


	2. Wounded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _They looked at each other, an arm's length and an abyss of unspoken words apart._  
>  They talk and Duncan makes an ill-advised choice.

Duncan shot upright when he heard Rhys' key in the door. He hadn't even tried to sleep in the bed when he had woken at dawn, still on the bathroom floor. Instead, he had taken a blanket and Rhys' shirt and had slept on the couch.

Rhys looked like hell, pale with dark shadows under his eyes, a bit of stubble. Normally, Rhys was borderline obsessive about shaving. The fact that he had even gone out like that was a shock for Duncan. 

When Rhys took off his jacket, Duncan could see the bruises. Dark blue and black, circling his wrists where Duncan had held him down. Duncan couldn't look at them. He barely had the courage to meet Rhys' eyes. The sorrow he saw there made him take a step forward, he wanted to touch Rhys, to comfort him. It was an instinctive reaction, just like the step Rhys took backwards. 

Duncan stayed where he was and tried to come up with something to say. 'I'm sorry. Rhys, I never wanted to hurt you.' 

'But you did.' Rhys said it without anger, his voice completely flat. He stood in the door to the living room like he was ready to just run away again. 'We fucked this up so badly and we're lucky it's not worse.'

'How could this have been any worse? I was so out of control, it didn't even cross my mind that I was...that I wasn't doing what you wanted any more.' Duncan shivered with nerves and hugged himself to keep his hands still.

'Duncan, I almost _killed_ you. I could have stopped you at any time, don't you realise? It was so hard to control my rage. All I wanted to do was make you stop, letting Bear take over and tear you apart. I couldn't think, it was just this mindless rage. And if I had given in, you'd be dead now.' Rhys spat out the last words, threw them at Duncan like knives. It lasted only for a second until he drew in on himself again.

It had never occurred to Duncan that Rhys might have been feeling anything else than fear. He sat down heavily on the couch, tried to process. 'Why didn't you say something? I know I should have noticed, I'm not saying this is your fault. But...' He wanted to say that he would never have ignored the safeword. He wished he could say it, could be sure of it. He wasn't.

'I couldn't. I'm sorry, I've never had that happen before. You... The way you told me to be quiet, it reminded me of something. Someone. It was like I was back, with that person. The memories almost drowned me and it was all I could do to keep my head above water. Remind myself that this was _you_. Not...him. I never got my head clear enough to remember the safeword.' Rhys made a couple of steps into the room. The way he moved reminded Duncan of a deer stepping into a clearing it wasn't quite sure was safe.

'The next thing I remember, really remember, is running from you. I knew where I was then but I couldn't have you touch me. I would have lost it. It was hard enough keeping it together and all I could think about was getting away from you. To keep you safe.'

'Fuck. We really fucked this up so much.' Duncan was stunned. He grabbed the clearest thought he had: 'That person, did he... What happened?' _Did he rape you, too?_

'Ask me later. I can't talk about this right now. He didn't ... do what you did.' Rhys had started to cry. Silent tears ran down his face, dropping from his nose and chin. He wiped them off with the back of his hand.. 'I can't stay here, I'm sorry. I need some time to figure out how we can repair this. A couple of days. I need to be alone.'

Duncan nodded, too dazed to argue or even say anything. He watched Rhys pack a few things. At first, he tried to help until he noticed how carefully Rhys kept his distance and how he shied away when Duncan came too close. All he wanted to do was comfort Rhys, hug him and tell him that it would be alright. But he understood that it wouldn't have helped. And he was far from sure it was the truth.

'Will you call me?' Duncan had retreated to the couch so as not to be in the way. When Rhys came into the room again, he stood up slowly. 'Please?'

'I will. I want to. I'm not walking out on you, that is not what this is. I just need some distance.' Rhys hesitated, made a small step towards Duncan, stopped. 

Duncan could have reached out and touched him, but he didn't dare to. They looked at each other, an arm's length and an abyss of unspoken words apart. 

'I'll call you tomorrow.' Rhys simply turned away and left. The click of the door falling shut was deafening.

  
  


* * *

  
  


The days turned into a week. Then two. Then three. They did talk, even met a couple of times in a park or a cafe. But that night stood between them, kept them apart. And Rhys never seemed to want to talk about it. Duncan didn't push. 

He longed to touch Rhys, hug him tight and never let go every time they met. They interacted like friendly acquaintances, doing a very careful dance. He was too scared he would overstep, violate Rhys' boundaries. And Rhys just stayed curled in on himself, didn't reach out. Duncan's heart ached after every meeting when Rhys went back to where ever he was staying. He hadn't asked and Rhys hadn't said. 

At times, Duncan thought that it would be better for him to stay somewhere else, too. Everything in the apartment reminded him of how things used to be. And how much his life was falling apart. He hadn't touched the bed since Rhys had left, kept sleeping on the couch instead. Passing out on the couch, after numbing himself with alcohol. He was working on that right now, exhausted from work yet not able to sleep.

They were drifting apart. Duncan had no idea how to fix this, he just knew that they couldn't continue like this. Every time they talked, it felt more and more like they had already lost everything that had made them so good together. He wanted Rhys back. Every time he had to let him walk away, it hurt more until it was a constant knot in his gut. He couldn't eat, started skipping meals, survived on fast food and energy bars.

It was worst at night. He was cold and lonely, lay awake for hours until sheer exhaustion put him to sleep. He cradled Rhys's shirt every night but the smell only made Rhys' absence more painful. Yet he couldn't bear to let go of the small comfort it brought. 

Duncan kept having nightmares. 

_He is fucking Rhys while Rhys begs and cries. Rhys is saying his safeword over and over to make him stop. Duncan keeps fucking him, hits him to make him shut up. Hits him until blood is running from Rhys' nose and he is just crying quietly, waiting for it to be over._

The dreams where Rhys attacks him and escapes were the better ones. They were over faster. Duncan wished Rhys had done it, had let Bear defend him. He knew that Rhys wasn't exaggerating when he had said that Duncan would have been dead then, seriously hurt at the least. But in his mind, it felt like the better option. Better than this.

Duncan couldn't face another night alone. He needed clarity. A decision. Rhys didn't answer his commlink. Duncan opened another beer, called again. Left voice messages asking Rhys to call back. Kept calling. Kept drinking.

 _Fine._ If Rhys didn't want to talk, that was fine with Duncan. He was over waiting for him. He was done putting his life on hold. This had been too good to be true anyway. It had just taken longer than usual for Duncan to fuck up. Maybe it was time to show Rhys that he had made a mistake in choosing Duncan. Give him a way out of this, a way to end things quickly and cleanly. None of this trying to fix things. There was no coming back from this, Rhys just hadn't understood that yet. Duncan was used to cutting his losses, walking away from people and having them walk away from him. It was better to do it quickly, not draw it out.

Duncan got dressed, took a beer for the road and left. The door fell shut behind him with a quiet click.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta read by [Tyellas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tyellas) \- thank you!
> 
> Chapter title is from Inkubus Sukkubus' [Wounded](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AS27Y5kUToI)


	3. Fool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The joy on Duncan's face at seeing him lasted for maybe two seconds before it was wiped away by the freight train of memory._  
>  Another talk and a decision is made

Twenty missed calls from Duncan and increasingly drunken voicemails asking where he was were not the thing Rhys wanted to wake up to. He had had switched off his commlink for a talk with Bear, not wanting to be disturbed during the ritual needed for that. Afterwards, he had gone straight to sleep, exhausted.

A call to Duncan went straight to voicemail. Duncan didn't handle drinking heavily well under the best of circumstances and this was far from it. Rhys was too worried to wait and try again later, he got dressed and went to Duncan's apartment. Their apartment. 

When he arrived there, he was taken aback to see a woman walking towards the stairs from the direction of their door. There was no other apartment she could have come from and she wasn't one of their neighbors. Worse, he could smell Duncan on her when she passed him with a shy smile. She certainly was Duncan's type, tall and muscled, an athlete from the way she moved. Anger burned in Rhys' chest, but not at her. He had worried himself sick about Duncan on the way here and Duncan had had nothing better to do than cheat on him?

Inside the apartment, everything was quiet. She had apparently left without waking Duncan or he had fallen asleep again. In any case, he was buried deep under the covers in bed. Their bed. 

Rhys had to shake him awake. The joy on Duncan's face at seeing him lasted for maybe two seconds before it was wiped away by the freight train of memory. Confusion, regret and panic climbed out of the wreck.

'She left already. I met her when I came in.' The bitterness in his voice was painful even for Rhys himself, but he couldn't help it. 'Get up, we need to talk. But take a shower first.' Without waiting for an answer, he walked out, closed the door behind him. He couldn't stand the smell of sex and alcohol and the stranger's perfume, its metallic taste coating his tongue and throat. 

The simple task of making coffee allowed him to get a grip. At least Rhys didn't feel like punching Duncan right away. Looking around, he could see the cracks in Duncan's life. The crumpled blanket that told him Duncan was sleeping on the sofa. One of Rhys' own shirts half-hidden under the blanket. The empty beer bottles on the counter. The fridge that was a desert except for more beer and takeout leftovers. The only thing thriving were the plants. Duncan had given them the care he had denied himself.

Rhys sat down and waited, listening to the running water from the shower, nursing his anger and his coffee. When Duncan came into the kitchen, Rhys pushed a mug across the table, gestured to it: 'Sit. What the _fuck_ , Duncan? Did you sleep with her? Do you even _remember_?' It was a question he knew the answer to, but he wanted to hear Duncan say it.

Duncan clutched his mug like it could shield him from Rhys' anger. 'Yes. Yes, I did. I'm sorry, I hadn't- ' Even in the quiet of early morning, it was hard to understand Duncan, his voice low and hoarse from alcohol and emotions. Reading his aura was no better. Roiling clouds of confusion and fear muted all the colours down to a murky grey, with lightning flashes of silvery regret and bright blue sorrow. It left the taste of brittle glass and ozone in Rhys' mouth. The cord connecting them was badly frayed and fragile, black fissures threatening to split it.

'Would you have told me if I hadn't found out? Or would you have lied about it?' Rhys didn't wait for Duncan to finish his sentence. It took an effort not to yell at him and an even bigger one not to just walk out.

Red cracks of anger split open in Duncan's aura, a spike of dry heat. He pushed the cup away, leaned forward, raised his voice. 'Do you want to know why I did this? I was so fucking drunk and lonely and empty last night, I couldn't stand it any more. I tried calling you, to finally make you talk about us. We can't leave it like this, can't you see that? But you weren't there. And I - I went out and picked someone up, cheated on you, so you would finally have a really good reason to end it. I was so desperate to find a way out of this situation. Any way.'

He leaned back, the fires of his anger banked by a freezing fog of fear again, extinguished by a wave of grief. 'It was a stupid idea, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done it. You don't deserve this. Any of this.' Duncan took a deep breath, fighting to get the words out. 'But I can't handle it. Being alone. Knowing you're somewhere, out of reach for me. It's tearing me apart. Please come back. I know this is the worst possible moment to ask this, but please. Come back to me.'

Seeing him crushed by guilt, trying his hardest not to cry and _begging_ , made Rhys' anger slink away. He was horrified that he hadn't seen how bad things were. That he had been so busy with himself that he hadn't noticed Duncan's pain. Maybe he hadn't wanted to. 'This is not working out for us.' 

Duncan winced. 'Please, don't- Don't leave me.' He had misunderstood and Rhys could have kicked himself.

'That's not what I meant. I meant that being apart is not working for us. I still have no idea how we are going to get past-' he couldn't bring himself to actually say it, '-all of it, but I know we're not going to do it by being on our own. We need to try and find a way of being with each other again. I'm staying. I'm sorry I wasn't there.' Rhys reached across the table. Duncan took his hand, held onto it hard. Like he was never going to let go.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Rhys had gone to get his things and something for them to eat. When he returned, Duncan had used the time to clean up the apartment and it looked more or less like it used to, at least on the surface. Neither of them felt really hungry, but they both knew they should eat something. So they made eggs and toast, returning to their practiced ballet around each other in the kitchen.

They ate in silence. When they were done, it suddenly struck Rhys that Duncan had lost weight and sorrow stabbed his heart. 'You're right, we need to talk about this. But I have no idea how to handle it. I have no plan. And it terrifies me.' 

'I always thought, every time we met, that today was going to be the day, that I could find the words. But I never did. And you never asked. And every time I was so grateful you didn't. Because that meant I had more time to figure out how we can handle this. And it meant we hadn't failed yet. Because we hadn't tried.' Rhys didn't look at Duncan while he was talking, studied the table instead. A creaking told him that Duncan had leaned forward in his chair. 

'I didn't want to put pressure on you. I was scared you'd leave. Fuck, I _am_ scared you'll leave.' Duncan made a pause, sucked in air. 'I raped you, where do we go from there?'

Rhys flinched as if Duncan had hit him. He finally looked at Duncan. There was the same heartbreak on Duncan's face that sat heavily in Rhys' chest. Hearing Duncan say the word they had been dancing around ever since it happened made him nauseated. 'Duncan... You didn't do it on purpose. You didn't ignore anything I said. We have safewords, you relied on that. There's no way I can blame you for this.' 

'Don't tell me you aren't the least bit angry at me. Because, to tell you the truth, I am fucking _pissed_. At myself, for not realising that you had, I don't know, shut down suddenly. At you, for not using your safeword. I know why you didn't, I get it. But I'm still so angry.' Duncan didn't sound angry. He sounded tired and hurt. But Rhys didn't have to take another look at his aura to know the anger was there. He had it in himself, just waiting to rekindle.

Rhys needed a moment to answer. 'You're right, I am angry. At both of us. When I think about that night, I can still feel that rage. And in that moment, I hate you for not stopping. For not checking that everything was okay, for thinking only of yourself.' Rhys hadn't meant to say all of this, not this bluntly. Duncan looked away and pulled his hand back when Rhys held out his own. 'It still doesn't mean that I blame you. It was a perfect storm, everything coming together. I didn't see it coming, at all.'

Duncan was stock still, didn't look up, hands under the table. All defenses up. Rhys began to fear he had done irreparable damage with his words. 'Do you understand that I don't actually hate you? It's what I felt that night and what I remember, but it's not what I feel _now_.' 

'And what do you feel now?' Duncan still hadn't looked up. His voice didn't rise above a hoarse whisper.

'I don't know. It's all too much. I'm angry at myself for assuming that I had left my past behind. I'm angry that it came back to hurt us both. I'm scared we can't handle this. But I do know that I still want to be with you. I've missed you so much.' Rhys stopped talking in the face of Duncan's silence.

Outside, a blackbird sang, its song sweet and clear over the traffic. In the apartment above them, someone dropped something with a dull thump. A dog barked on the street, the noise fading as it ran off. Sunlight made the polished wood of the table glow, dust dancing in the air above it. The dance grew frantic when Duncan breathed out, leaned forward again in a sudden movement. 

This time, it was Duncan who reached for Rhys' hand, squeezed it tight. 'Where do we start? Do you think you could tell me about what happened to you that made you react like that? I think I need to know.'

Rhys nodded. 'I'll try. Can we go sit on the couch for this? I feel - safer there. And I don't want the table between us.' 

'Sure.' Duncan stood, without letting go of Rhys' hand and led the way into the living room. He hesitated in front of the couch after Rhys had sat down. 

Rhys gave his hand a small pull. 'Sit with me, please. I think I need you close for this.' His pulse was racing and he hadn't even started. With his legs curled under him, he turned sideways to face Duncan, still holding his hand.

There was some distance between them until Duncan crossed it and very gently touched Rhys' face. Rhys leaned into the touch, just for a bit, and took courage from it. 

And he began to talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta read by [Tyellas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tyellas/pseuds/Tyellas) \- thank you!
> 
> Title from [Fool by Inkubus Sukkubus](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RWcBuiGPt_U)


	4. The Hungry Abyss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The first time Graham hits Rhys, he immediately apologises._  
>  A look into Rhys' past.

The first time Graham hits Rhys, he immediately apologises. Rhys accepts the apology. He knows a thing or two about having a temper. Graham is contrite and assures him it won't happen again.

It happens again.

A backhanded slap across the face splits Rhys lip. This time, Graham runs. He doesn't come back for two days and Rhys is sick with worry. When Graham returns, with apologies and a plant as a gift, Rhys is happy to see him and quick to forgive again.

They talk and Graham tells him how hard it is to keep his temper. How his parents used to smack him around and how it was the only reaction to anger he has ever learned. He swears he will try to do better. Rhys promises to help him.

There's a thrill to it, now that he knows of Graham's temper. Something only Rhys knows, clearly. Something Graham has trusted only Rhys with, no one else, none of his friends. It makes Rhys proud to be shown trust like that. And he feels a connection that wasn't there before, their relationship made only deeper by their shared problem. 

Rhys is nineteen and has lived with Graham for half a year. It's not his first time away from home, but they have moved from London to Boston and it's intimidating. He is glad Graham is there to look out for him. And he is proud that Graham wants him enough to ask him to make the move with him. 

With Graham's help, he gets a job as a paramedic, continues the training he started back home. In his spare time, he starts building a collection of Awakened plants. Graham supports him in this, too, and points it out when they have guests, to Rhys' not so secret delight.

Graham could have anyone, charming and successful as he is. People seek his company wherever he goes. He can convince people to let him into their houses, to let him look through their attics and storage spaces for antiques they may not know they have, just with his smile. Even people who would normally take offense at the tusks in that smile.

At parties, people flock to him. Rhys is content to stay back and watch when this happens. He knows that sooner or later, Graham will turn to him and include him. Make it clear that he wants no-one but Rhys, with a kiss and a smile, a hand on his arm. Every time it happens, Rhys falls in love all over again.

And because he loves Graham, he starts to step carefully around him. He wants to avoid setting him off, to make it easier for him. 

It works. Next time Graham gets angry, he only throws a flower pot against the wall. Rhys is relieved Graham didn't hit him. It's progress. He gathers up the pieces and repots the plant.

Life is good. They go out, have fun, watch movies, take walks. They have sex and they cuddle. They mostly do whatever Graham wants. Rhys enjoys having Graham introduce him to new things. He is happy to let Graham choose. More often than not, it's what he wants, too. And it keeps the peace.

There are more broken flower pots. One time, Graham punches the wall hard enough to leave a mark and to break a couple of fingers. Rhys is frozen while Graham curses at him for making him angry. He stays frozen until the front door slams shut behind Graham.

When Graham comes back, he had his hand treated at the hospital. Rhys tries to apologise, offers to completely heal the injury. Graham just walks past him and locks himself in his room. He doesn't speak to Rhys for a day. When he does, he apologises, too, and they make up again. 

By now, Rhys' pulse starts to race every time Graham raises his voice. He finds himself flinching when there is even a minor disagreement and Graham makes any sudden moves. He does his best to ignore it, tells himself he is overreacting. 

Then they have a serious fight. It's over nothing, really, but it escalates quickly despite Rhys' efforts to back down. It's like his compliance provokes Graham even further. In the end, Graham has him backed into a corner, yelling at him at the top of his voice. Rhys is so afraid he starts crying. It earns him a slap across the face. And another. 

'Shut up! You're driving me crazy, just be quiet!' When Rhys can't stop crying, Graham punches him.

Rhys tastes blood, the warmth of it running down his face. Anger rises in his gut, threatens to overwhelm him. He panics, shoves Graham aside and locks himself in the bathroom. Graham kicks the door, shouts at him to open up and let him in. Rhys is shaking all over, too terrified to move. Terrified both of Graham and himself.

He stays in there for hours, long after it's all quiet outside. Late at night, he sneaks out. He takes nothing but the clothes he's wearing and he runs.

Graham manages to find him a few days later. Rhys has been staying with one of Graham's friends. He knows no one who isn't also Graham's friend and has only said that they had a bad fight. It's quite possible the friend called Graham, with the best intentions. Rhys is a mess.

Graham asks Rhys to please talk to him, offers to walk away and never bother him again after it. Rhys agrees. It feels cruel not to. Everyone makes mistakes. Rhys has made his share and people have been giving him second chances. How can he not do the same?

They talk for hours. Graham apologises and Rhys apologises. After all, he lost his temper just as much as Graham and he is dangerous when he does. Graham hugs him and tells him he trusts Rhys to not hurt him.

In the end, Rhys comes back with Graham who is gentle and attentive and loving. It's like nothing bad ever happened and as the bruises fade, so does the memory. It gets replaced and overwritten by the good ones. 

Graham takes time off work for a vacation with Rhys and they go where Rhys wants, hike at Yellowstone for a week. Rhys sees a bear in the wild for the first time ever, a huge grizzly. He can't stop talking about it and Graham enjoys his excitement. They come back home and settle into a comfortable routine again.

It lasts for a month. 

Another shattered flower pot. A punch to the wall, right next to Rhys' face. A raised fist, pulled back for a punch that doesn't come and doesn't need to. 

Apologies. Gifts. Sometimes even tears from Graham.

Rhys gets used to being careful around Graham. To not showing any fear or insecurity, but also not too much confidence. When he does, it sends Graham into a rage. He finds himself crying in the shower more than once. The sound of the water makes it safe. 

Then there is the moment where he goes to shower just so he can cry. And he hates himself for being so weak. But he's scared to leave. He's too ashamed to tell anyone what is happening. There's no way he can ask for help. And he's scared that Graham will find him again if he leaves. The thought of starting over somewhere else, all alone, terrifies him. 

And so he tells himself again, while wiping away his tears, that he is overreacting and that he just needs to get better at handling Graham. After all, Graham has so many friends who like him and speak highly of him. It must be Rhys who is the problem. 

He hasn't talked to his parents in a long time. Not really _talked_. They like Graham and wouldn't understand. They trust Rhys to make his own decisions and they are proud of how he handles his life. He can't disappoint them like this. So he lies to them about how great things are and only calls them when he absolutely needs to because he hates himself for lying.

In the end, Graham is the only person he still talks to. Graham tells Rhys he doesn't need anyone else, that he will take care of him. 

And he does. There are still good times. Graham is perfectly pleasant as long as everything goes his way. Rhys tries to make sure it does. At this point, he has invested so much, has lied to so many people every time he spoke to them, has broken off friendships with people who did notice something wrong and started asking questions.

He's afraid he won't find someone like Graham again, someone who trusts him so blindly despite his flaws. The least he can do is return that trust. And it still feels good to have that kind of connection. 

He spends a year like this. Over the course of it, he even stops talking to Bear. His magic suffers for it. He knows it's his choice and that Bear would gladly support him. But it would mean facing up to how badly he has fucked up his life. It's the same as with anyone else who could help. 

He has to repot a lot of flowers over the course of that year. 

Graham doesn't hit him often, he knows better than to provoke the berserker rage that sleeps in Rhys. But he also knows how hard Rhys works at keeping it under control. When he hurts Rhys, it's enough to scare him but not enough to trigger the rage. He is very good at walking that line. There are bruises and sometimes a split lip or a bloody nose, but nothing more.

Until the evening Graham comes home already angry and drunk and in the mood to fuck to take the edge off. Rhys dares to tell him that he'd rather not have sex with him right now. Graham has never forced him, another line he knows not to cross. And he doesn't try now. But he starts beating Rhys, yelling at him how pathetic he is and how glad he should be that Graham even bothers with him.

Rhys ends up cowering in a corner, curled up into a ball. A flower pot shatters on the wall above him, shards and soil raining down on him. A vicious kick breaks his ribs. He cries out in pain, his breathing ragged. 'Please, stop!' 

Graham kicks him again, grabs a fistful of Rhys' hair to pull him to his feet. 'Shut up. Shut up and take it-'

With a snarl, Rhys jumps him. They both go down, landing painfully hard in a tangle of limbs. A spell explodes in Graham's face, burning his skin. He screams and struggles to throw Rhys off, to dodge the next spell. It hits him square in the chest. A glaringly bright ball of light clings to him. His screams rise in pitch as it melts into his skin, eats away at his flesh. 

Rhys is on top of him. He claws into Graham's arms and neck, leaves deep gouges. Graham's fingers scrabble frantically at him, find no purchase. Rhys shakes them off, slams a fist into Graham's face. Graham tries to push Rhys' head back, to choke him. The fire of the spell has blinded him. 

Another punch from Rhys cracks Graham's head against the floor and his whole body jerks. His arms drop and he lies still. Rhys doesn't stop. He keep punching until Graham's face is a broken, bloody mass. Then he rolls off of him and curls up, sobbing so hard he can barely breathe.

  
  


'Did you kill him?' Duncan's low voice snapped Rhys out of the memory. 

Rhys had to take a moment to come back to the present. He was still holding Duncan's hand, squeezing hard enough that it must have been painful for Duncan. Letting go, he turned the hand over and traced the lines in Duncan's palm with his fingers. 'No. As far as I know, he's still alive. I hooked him up to a medkit, called DocWagon. And then I ran.'

'I grabbed a few things and went to a hotel, to clean myself up. It's all a bit of a blur, but I took the first flight I could get, got myself a car at the airport and drove to my parents' place. I ended up arriving there in the middle of the night, scared the hell out of them. I didn't tell them what had happened for days. And I never told them how far out of control I was during that last fight. You're the only person who knows now.' Rhys drew a deep breath, terrified of Duncan's reaction.

Very slowly, Duncan raised his free hand to Rhys' face and touched his cheek. 'I'm sorry. I'm sorry you had to do that.' 

'It was a long time ago. I was just trying to get my life together and I thought I was so lucky with Graham. It's part of why it was so hard to leave him.' Rhys looked up at Duncan, managed a tiny sad smile. 'I never heard from him again, but I was scared for a long time that he'd find me. And I'm sorry that all of this hurt you,too.'

Duncan was silent for a bit, visibly gathering the courage for a question. 'I need to ask you something. I promise I'm not blaming you or judging you, I just want to understand. With that in your past, why did you want me to force you- pretend, I mean?'

'Because I like it when you do it. You don't actually want to force me into anything I don't want to do and I like how it feels. Your strength and the cold, brutal way you are when you pretend not to care about what I want. It feels real but I know it's safe with you.' Rhys was interrupted by a bark of laughter from Duncan.

'Safe, yeah. We've seen how well that works now. I'm not _safe_. Never were.' Duncan's voice was as hard as his face.

'Please don't do this. The moment you actually noticed something was wrong, you stopped. You never once put your wishes over mine on purpose and that's what important to me. You didn't break my trust.' Rhys held on to Duncan's hand when he tried to pull it back.

'It feels like I did, let me tell you. You trusted me not to hurt you and I did. I'm scared of what else I'm going to do. I know how easy it's for me to give up control. And how far I go when I'm off the leash.' With Rhys still not letting go, Duncan couldn't get up, but he turned away. 

Rhys squeezed his hand, trying to get Duncan to look at him again. 'You trusted me to tell you when I wanted you to stop. And I didn't. We both fucked this up. But I don't think we're getting anywhere, blaming ourselves for it.' 

Duncan got up, pulling his hand out of Rhys', and started to pace. 'I don't trust myself. I thought I had myself under control. I thought I would never hurt you. But it felt so good to let myself off the leash. It made me blind to what was happening. I should have seen it. You stopped talking to me and I didn't ask. I was too busy fucking you!' His voice had risen to a shout and he turned his back. 'I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you.'

Rhys walked over to him, carefully touched him. Duncan was shaking all over. 'You watch yourself all the time. I've seen you angry and we've had our share of fights, but I've never been afraid of you. I'm not afraid of you now. You do care.'

Carefully keeping his distance, Duncan turned to face Rhys. 'Sure, I care. But I don't know if that's enough.' He was miserable. Shoulders slumped, head down, hands nervously fiddling with the fabric of his pants.

'But I know it. If you don't trust yourself, trust me.' Crossing the distance between them, Rhys held out his hand and after a second, Duncan took it. 'There's one thing I never doubted and that's my decision to be with you.'

'I'm just so fucking scared. I don't want to lose you.' Duncan's aura drowned in a wave of dark purple fear, dyeing everything else almost black. He struggled to breathe.

Without a second thought, Rhys hugged him, held him as closely as he could. Slowly and gently, Duncan answered the hug, as if he was afraid of crushing Rhys.

Duncan's clean smell and his warmth washed over Rhys. It overwhelmed him for a moment before giddy relief won over all other emotions. Duncan's presence filled the painful emptiness that had been eating away at Rhys and he buried his face against Duncan's neck, breathed deeply.

Rhys listened to Duncan's steady heartbeat and wished that they had solved all their problems already. But for now, this was good enough. Actually, it was perfect.

'I'm exhausted.' Duncan mumbled against Rhys neck. 'I need to sit down.' He didn't let go.

'Let's lie down. I could use some sleep.' Rhys kept a hold of Duncan's hand and gently pulled him towards the bedroom. He felt drained as the adrenaline that had carried him through the day so far vanished.

In the bedroom, Duncan waited to see what Rhys would do. When Rhys stripped down to a tshirt and boxers, he followed suit. Rhys crawled under the covers and looked up at Duncan, still standing there. 'Come, please hold me while we sleep.'

It saddened him to see how slowly and hesitantly Duncan moved, like he was afraid to scare Rhys with any sudden movements. As if he doubted his presence was really wanted, Rhys doing this just to appease him.

But he did lie down next to Rhys. When Rhys rolled into his arms, nestling into him with a sigh, he could feel Duncan relax. He fell asleep well before Rhys but never let go of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta read by [Tyellas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tyellas/pseuds/Tyellas)
> 
> Title from [The Hungry Abyss](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H-j5JES7hiE) by Inkubus Sukkubus
> 
> CONTENT NOTES: retelling of past abuse, some gore


	5. Smile of Torment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _If I cheat, you have a reason to break up with me, that's about as far as I got. Right then, it sounded good. It made sense to me. I wanted to make it easy for you._  
>  Duncan and Rhys start on the long way to repairing their relationship

Rhys had woken up a couple of hours later and gone to get himself a drink of water. He came back to Duncan sitting up in bed, looking crestfallen until he realised Rhys was still there. His smile made Rhys heart beat faster.

'Hey. Feel better?' Rhys got back into bed, leaned against Duncan's chest. 

'Yeah. At least I feel like I can handle things.' Duncan yawned and stretched, hugged Rhys. 'What time is it? Are you up for food? I could make something.' Duncan wasn't exactly the world's most versatile cook, but he had been learning.

'Almost seven - we slept through the day. And yes, food sounds very good.' The offer to cook was at least as much about taking care of Rhys as it was about eating and Rhys appreciated it.

'Want to keep me company in the kitchen?' Duncan gave him a last squeeze and rolled out of bed.

'Sure.' But Rhys stayed where he was and watched Duncan get dressed, just to feel a bit of normality. 

It didn't last long.

Duncan had his back turned while changing into a fresh t-shirt. There were barely healed deep scratches all over his back and sides. 

Rhys took a deep breath, let it out slowly while sitting up. 'Would you mind if I healed those scratches? I don't think I particularly want to wait until they heal by themselves.'

'Fuck.' Duncan turned around, guilt written large all over his face and hanging shoulders. 'I'm sorry. I should have taken care of that. Not to hide. But you don't need reminding.'

'A medkit doesn't work that fast.' Rhys tried to make light of it but he couldn't even convince himself. 'I think we should talk about this?' He patted the mattress for Duncan to sit down. When he had done so, Rhys touched his arm and concentrated on the spell. Technically, he didn't need to touch Duncan for it, but he always did and he was not going to change that now. The magic flowed into Duncan's body and made him shiver. He still was visibly uncomfortable whenever Rhys cast a spell on him. But he stayed much more relaxed than he used to. 

'I'm sorry I pushed you this far.' Even with the spell finished, Rhys didn't let go of Duncan's arm. 'I could see in how much pain you were every time we met and I ignored it. Because I didn't have a good plan that would have made sure we'd be together again. I thought I needed one. At least you did _something_ even if it wasn't the most ... elegant solution. And you did try to reach me, to get me to talk. Don't beat yourself up too much over this, okay?'

'What, I cheat and you're the one apologising? I can't pretend this isn't a big deal or that it's not my fault, too.' Duncan reached out to brush a loose strand of hair out of Rhys face, his hand shaking the tiniest bit. 'How can you be so— relaxed about this?'

'Because the situation was fucked up? I can't see sense in blaming you, that's not going to help. I won't break up with you over this and it's not like you are going to go out and do it again because you don't care about us.' Rhys shrugged. 'It would be different if this had come out of nowhere, but I can understand your reasons here.'

'I told her to hurt me. I didn't want it to feel good. I wanted to punish myself for doing this. Don't ask me what she got out of it, I have no idea. The sex worked, but I think we both knew that this was not about us in any way. A means to an end. We used each other. Some fucking luck she just left and spared us having to talk.' Duncan shook himself. 'I'm sorry, I'll shut up about this.'

Rhys had listened quietly. Every word pierced his heart but he recognised Duncan's need to talk about it. 'No, don't. Say what you need to say. I don't want this to come back later because we buried it and didn't talk about it.'

'I don't even know what my plan was. If I cheat, you have a reason to break up with me, that's about as far as I got. Right then, it sounded good. It made sense to me. I wanted to make it easy for you. And at the same time, I wanted to throw it all at your feet. Tell you in the most hurtful way. Maybe have you walk in on us, saving me the trouble of explaining anything. I wanted to make you _pay_ for leaving me like this-' A hand over his mouth, Duncan tried to hold back the sob that stole his voice. He failed and turned away, to hide his tears from Rhys.

Scrambling after him, Rhys hugged him from behind, his face pressed against the back of Duncan's neck. 'I get it. I really do.' He held him, Duncan's whole body shaking, and just let him cry. There wasn't much else he could say or do to make this better.

After a while, Duncan leaned back into him, his sobs calmed down to occasional sniffles. 'What do we do now? How does this work? I'm lost.'

'I'm not sure? Let's try this: we stop apologising to each other and we try not to blame ourselves. We've done plenty of both. But I think at this point, we need to move on and actually _be_ together again. And we'll start with making something to eat now.' Rhys placed a kiss on Duncan's jaw, right below his ear, felt him shiver.  
  


* * *

  
  
The stir fry, thrown together from left over rice, protein cubes and frozen vegetables, was coming along nicely. Rhys sat curled up on his usual chair and watched Duncan cut the lone salvageable carrot he had found. He had missed this so much, just being with Duncan. The thought that he had almost lost it all because he had allowed himself to become paralysed by indecision crept up his spine and he shuddered. 

Duncan did the cooking with all the concentration of a man disarming a bomb. He wasn't ignoring Rhys, he just didn't have much practice yet especially when not following a recipe. While Duncan was musing over the herbs on the windowsill, trying to decide which would go well with the food, Rhys let his attention shift to the astral plane. 

The glow of Duncan's aura was soothing. A few sharp edges, from the concentration, but the rest was a soft, lush sea green of contentment. There were dark streaks of stress and anxiety, a cold undercurrent running through warm waters and Rhys tried not to concentrate on them to avoid getting entangled. 

The connection between him and Duncan looks less frayed than it had this morning, a soft mesh of colours spreading out over the fissures. A sound caught his attention in the murmur of astral noise, the low chime of his devil's snare and he searched for it. It looked perfectly healthy when he found it, slender tendrils stretching and connecting to Rhys' own aura. 

And to Duncan's.

Rhys sat up straight so suddenly, his chair scraped over the kitchen floor. He sucked in a sharp breath, staring at the tendrils. The last time someone else had connected to his plants in this way, the tendrils had been dark growths of fear and hate. This was utterly different, so different he had to blink back tears.

The loud clatter of Duncan simply dropping the lid back on the pot jerked him out of astral sight. Duncan was in front of him, kneeling down and looking up at him with naked worry. 'What's wrong? Have I done anything—'

'No. No, I'm okay.' Rhys wiped away the tears with the back of his hand and smiled through them. 'I'm just ... it's been all a bit much today. I'm just glad we're together.' He wanted to tell Duncan about the plant, but not today. It would have been such a long explanation and he was tired. He wanted something to eat and then go to bed with Duncan again and sleep. The day had been exhausting. 

Duncan stared at him, sensing that Rhys wasn't telling him everything. But he didn't pry. He dropped his gaze and gave Rhys' hand a quick squeeze. 'Okay. Food's ready, do you want to eat?' Rhys almost told him after all, just to make the worried look in Duncan's eyes disappear. 

Instead, he just nodded. His head was swimming and he still felt like crying. The food helped a bit. They both inhaled their food, the whole stir fry gone within ten minutes. Duncan watched Rhys intently the whole time although he did try to hide it. 

For once abandonding the dishes where they stood, they returned to bed. Rhys pulled Duncan close, propped himself up on one elbow. 'I'm sorry, I didn't want to freak you out. I'm simply out of energy.' 

Blinds shut out most of the light from the street, including the flickering neon signs of the bar across the street. They also kept out most of the noise except the low roar of the city. In the semi-darkness, Rhys found he did have the strength for an explanation after all. 'Do you want to know what happened just now?'

'Sure, if you want to tell me?' Duncan's voice was muffled, he was half-hidden under the covers and spoke against Rhys' chest, but he rolled on his back so he could look at Rhys. 

'You took care of my plants while I was- not around. They like you. At least the devil's snare in the kitchen does. I could see it when I look at its aura and at yours, you have a connection. I've never seen that happen with anyone, not this way. And it makes me happy.' Rhys traced circles on Duncan's t-shirt.

'Oh.' Duncan was silent for a few seconds. 'I had no idea you could see something like that. Does it need to be mutual? Do we have a connection?'

Rhys shifted to keep his arm from falling asleep. 'Yes. It looks a bit sickly at the moment, but it will heal. And it doesn't need to be mutual, but I can see that it is with you and the plant. I didn't know you liked them this much.' 

'I do. They make me feel at home.' Duncan reached up to follow the lines of Rhys' tattoos along his arm, up to where they vanished under the t-shirt and no further. 'Did Graham have a connection to them? No, fuck, forget I asked.'

'It's okay. He did, but not like you. They feared him as much as I did, in the end. And he hated them. They were something I loved that he couldn't control, although he tried. But I think if he had actually tried to take them away, I would have left. It's strange where lines get draw when you're in that kind of situation.' Rhys lay down on Duncan's chest, the exhaustion coming back to claim him.

Duncan wrapped his arms around him. 'We're both good at telling ourselves that things are fine long after they really are not. Promise me you'll tell me when I'm doing something that's bothering you? Right away?'

'I promise.' Rhys yawned and nestled into him. He fell asleep listening to Duncan’s heartbeat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta read by Tyellas \- thank you!  
> Title from [Smile of Torment](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UlGyHOAPqmE) by Inkubus Sukkubus


	6. We Walk Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _It had been two months since Rhys had come back. They had taken things slow and had spend time like courting teenagers. Cuddling a lot, holding hands, kissing. Pushing hands under t-shirts, keeping them there while they slept. Always a bit of distance, with clothes and blankets and their own caution providing a barrier. But they both wanted more and almost without talking, had decided that tonight was the right time._  
>  Another step forward. And a stumbling stone.
> 
> Content info in the AN!

  


'Are you sure about this?' Duncan put a hand on Rhys' arm, the touch stopping Rhys in the act of pulling down Duncan's boxers.

It had been two months since Rhys had come back. They had taken things slow and had spend time like courting teenagers. Cuddling a lot, holding hands, kissing. Pushing hands under t-shirts, keeping them there while they slept. Always a bit of distance, with clothes and blankets and their own caution providing a barrier. But they both wanted more and almost without talking, had decided that tonight was the right time.

Rhys looked up at Duncan and swung one leg over him, grabbing his wrists while he leaned forward, trapping hin. 'I'm sure. I want you. And I can't spend any more time keeping away from you.' He demonstrated by grinding his hard cock against Duncan's. 

Whatever Duncan had been about to say, he forgot about it. And he really didn't feel like protesting again when Rhys let go of his wrists and finally removed the last layer of clothes still separating them. When Rhys crawled on top of him again after tossing the boxers in the general direction of the floor, Duncan held his breath. 

There was less urgency than Duncan would have expected. It was kept in check by the fear of going too far, too fast. With Rhys stretched out on top of him, they took a moment to enjoy it, skin to skin, holding on to each other. 

Rhys' fingers found their way to Duncan's neck, into his hair and down to his ear again, bending the tip gently. Duncan turned his head, raised his chin, offering himself to Rhys. His eyes closed, he growled softly with pleasure as Rhys took him up on the offer, scritching the stubble on his chin and neck. 

The touch wandered down Duncan's chest to his side, followed along by kisses and little bites, tusks and fangs nipping at his skin. Rhys' braid slid over Duncan's skin, just bordering on a tickle. Duncan squirmed, the soft touches threatening to overwhelm him.

Rhys licked along the length of Duncan's cock, gave it just the tiniest nip with his fangs. Not enough to hurt, but more than enough to get Duncan's attention. 'I want you to watch me.'

Duncan sat up while Rhys fished for the lube and distracted him by running his hands over Rhys' back down to his ass. It made Rhys shiver but he moved away from Duncan, kneeling on the bed so he could reach between his legs. He gave Duncan's hand a light slap when Duncan reached out to him: 'No touching!'

So Duncan settled back to watch as Rhys started fucking himself with his fingers. A blush rose from Rhys' chest, over his neck and into his face. It gave his pale skin a warm glow and made the lines of his tattoos striking in contrast. He had his eyes closed, his head thrown back, his hips thrusting forward slowly.

Duncan was free to let his gaze wander. He wanted to grab Rhys and _take_ him but right now that was not a good choice. Instead, he stroked himself while he watched, enjoying Rhys' quiet moans and the way he lost himself in his pleasure, displaying himself for Duncan.

 

Rhys opened his eyes and took in the sight of Duncan watching him, too engrossed in what he was seeing to mind being watched back. There was a thrill of power in it for Rhys. Duncan was sitting crosslegged, one hand slowly moving up and down his shaft, the other fondling his balls. Biting his lip, he had his attention focused on what Rhys' hands were doing. In turn, Rhys' eyes were caught by the way the muscles in Duncan's arms moved, shifting under the skin. And by the way his cock was already leaking precum.

Rhys stopped and waited until Duncan looked up at him, clearly disappointed that the show was over. 

'Well, _you_ are obviously enjoying yourself.' Moving quickly enough to take Duncan by surprise, Rhys lunged at him and pushed him over on his back, straddling him. 'I want to ride your cock.' He reached back between them and closed his fingers around the length of it.

Duncan gasped and thrust into Rhys' fist. '-you say the nicest things.' He pulled Rhys down into a kiss, not letting go until they both absolutely needed to breathe. 

Rhys backed up, slowly lowered himself down on Duncan's cock, taking his time until he was sitting comfortably. He gave an experimental bounce, eliciting a low moan from Duncan. Straddling him, Rhys felt a slight shiver running through Duncan's body. But Duncan didn't move, his hands on Rhys' hips, holding him firmly but gently. He gave all control to Rhys, let him set the pace. 

All the fears Rhys had had about freaking out were silenced. He had been afraid that letting Duncan fuck him would be uncomfortable or even terrifying, throw him into another flashback. It didn't. 

'I have missed that...' Rhys leaned forward for another kiss, pushed himself back on Duncan's cock when it threatened to slip out. It slid into him again easily, satisfyingly thick and hard. For a time, he moved slowly, kept Duncan still with his weight, listened to their breathing getting faster. 

He raised himself until only the tip of Duncan's cock was still inside him, stopped moving. When Duncan opened his eyes, looking a bit concerned, Rhys clicked his tongue at him: 'I'm not doing all the work here.'

Duncan snorted and thrust up into him in an unhurried movement. 'If you tell me to giddyup, I am going to throw you off the bed.'

'Be glad I'm not using a whip.' Rhys started to move again, settling into a rhythm with Duncan. Holding on with one hand on Duncan's shoulder, he touched himself, only teasing at first. Pleasure warmed him and he had almost forgotten about his worries, lost in the comfort of their intimacy.

They kept at the leisurely pace for a while, but eventually neither of them could wait much longer. With Duncan bucking under him, Rhys held on, pushed back as hard as he could. His teasing had turned into urgent strokes. 

Duncan grabbed Rhys' hips and held him: 'Don't. Move.' He fucked into Rhys, fast and hard, losing his rhythm quickly, the last thrusts almost throwing Rhys off. His hands fell away from Rhys' hips as he came, his cock pulsing inside Rhys.

While Duncan lay shuddering and gasping under him, Rhys stroked himself to his orgasm. When Rhys' muscles squeezed Duncan's cock, milking it for the last of his cum, Duncan couldn't do much more than flinch and whimper. Rhys had just enough control left to do it on purpose for a few seconds before he came, clutching at Duncan. 

They lay for a bit, Rhys still on top of Duncan, until they were no longer gasping for breath. Rhys nuzzled Duncan's neck, grinned against it. 'Yeehaw.'

He landed on the floor in a tangle of blankets, sheets and limbs, a pillow hitting him in the head a second later. 

'I _warned_ you!' Duncan's voice dropped into a menacing growl but the words dissolved into laughter. He lazily tossed another pillow in Rhys' direction.

Rhys stood up with as much dignity as he could muster, wrapping the blanket around himself. It left Duncan with no cover and Rhys took a moment to appreciate the sight of him, stretched out on his stomach. He flicked one corner of the blanket at Duncan's ass. 'Come on, let's get you cleaned up. Giddyup!'  
  


* * *

  
  
The kitchen was flooded by morning light and smelled of tea and the breakfast they had just finished. Duncan picked at the crumbs of a scone while Rhys fished for a cookie jar on the shelf above the table, too lazy to stand up and get it. 

Duncan would have enjoyed this a lot more if he hadn't had something on his mind. 'Do you want to go back to ... playing rough?' He looked at Rhys over his mug of tea, completely failing to sound casual.

'Eventually - I want to try very much because I love doing it.' Rhys had opened the jar and dunked a ginger cookie into his tea, a habit Duncan found strange but endearing. 'We fit together so well, no matter who's on top, and I think it would be a shame to stop playing. I can't promise that everything will go smoothly, but we can deal with that when it comes up. There's no sense in trying to think of every possible problem now.' 

'Yeah, you're right. And I want it, too. I'm just not sure I ever want to pretend again to force you.' Duncan sipped his tea, more for something to do than because he particularly wanted any at this moment. He had agonised a lot about saying something. 'I enjoyed it, no question. But after what happened last time and with your history with Graham, I'm not sure we should go there again. I don't know if I would have agreed to do this if I had known.'

Rhys blinked in confusion, put his mug down. 'What exactly are you saying? Graham did a lot of things, but he never raped me.'

 _Fuck._ Duncan wished he hadn't brought it up. But he couldn't back down now and didn't want to. 'Are you telling me you always felt comfortable with him? That you never agreed to have sex with him because you were afraid he'd hurt you if you didn't?'

The anguished look on Rhys' face made him wish he could make everything unsaid.

Rhys stood up, his chair scraping over the floor. He looked pale and sick. 'I need some air. I'll be on the roof. Give me a minute, okay?' The smile he gave Duncan was brittle and harrowed, it fell apart the second Rhys turned away.

Duncan watched him walk out of the kitchen and put a hand over his eyes when he heard the apartment door fall shut. _Brilliant._ Why hadn't he kept his mouth shut. Why had he felt it necessary to point this out to Rhys. It would have been enough to just say he wasn't comfortable with it, Rhys would have understood. 

He knew Rhys wouldn't mind him following after a while and he sat, watching the kitchen clock tick away the time.  
  


* * *

  
  
The roof garden wasn't much, just a collection of crates, metal drums and boxes in a corner of the roof. Rhys waved to the troll on the next roof who was busy feeding his chickens. No one else was around and Rhys was glad of it. He knelt and started picking weeds and dry leaves, the sun on his back and the smell of earth and green in his nose. His hands worked steadily while his mind raced.

Memories that he had kept buried for a long time rose to the surface and swept him away.

Graham's hand on his arm, just a little too tight, and the tone of his voice that tells Rhys he is close to losing his temper. Graham's cock in Rhys' mouth and Rhys sucks on it, hoping that this is all Graham wants. Graham on top of him, chasing his own pleasure, while Rhys pretends to enjoy it and just wants it to be over.

'Rhys?' 

A hand on his arm and he swatted it away, raised his own hands in defense. Magic curled around his fingers, arched to find its mark as Rhys cast his spell. 

A crash as Duncan tried to dodge the spell, collided with one of the metal drums and went down. The sound of Duncan crying out in pain slapped Rhys back into the present. He stumbled over to Duncan who was already on his feet again, despite the burns covering his right arm. 

'I'm sorry! I didn't mean to- I'm sorry!' Rhys was still in a panic and the only thing that stopped him from losing it completely was the fact that Duncan needed his help. 

Duncan caught him with his left arm and held him. 'Calm down, breathe. I'm okay, just a bit singed. Please calm down.' 

It was clearly more than just a bit singed. The skin was red and blistering and Duncan was visibly in pain, tried not to move the arm at all. But his voice was calm and his breathing steady. 

Rhys tried to match it and got himself under control again, enough so he could look at Duncan. 'I want to heal this, can we sit down?' He was still caught up enough in his memories to be relieved when he didn't see anger on Duncan's face. There was just worry and fading shock.

They ended up sitting against the wall of the next house where it rose above theirs, warmth seeping into them from the bricks. Rhys carefully took Duncan's hand and cast his spell. It made him dizzy and he knew he had overdone it. A few drops of blood ran from his nose and he wiped them off with the sleeve of his shirt. The burns on Duncan's arm healed, the blisters growing smaller rapidly until they were gone and the skin looked normal again.

Duncan relaxed next to him and only that drew attention to the sheer amount of tension leaving his body, the pain he had been in. He was very good at hiding and ignoring it and just functioning. It struck Rhys just how much Duncan allowed himself to feel pain and even fear when they played. He knew this, but he had never actually _seen_ the difference. He just wished he hadn't been the cause for this demonstration.

'I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought Graham up. It wasn't my place to say anything.' Duncan turned his hand over so they could lace their fingers together. 

'Yes it was. It makes you uncomfortable with what we are doing and we need to talk about it.' Rhys looked out over their little garden, at the overturned barrel and smashed crate, spilling soil and plants on the ground. He smiled at a flower swinging wildly under the weight of a bumblebee. A little distraction before he turned back to Duncan. 'I ignored this for far too long. I didn't want to admit to myself how bad things had really been with Graham. It made it a bit easier to live with myself to think that this one piece of our relationship was actually normal.'

He leaned into Duncan. 'It's going to take a while for me to sort through this. Until I do, we really shouldn't play around with it, you're right.' Now that the worst of the panic was over, Rhys was shaky and lightheaded. 

'I'd appreciate that. Is there anything I can do to help?' Duncan manoeuvred himself between Rhys and the wall so Rhys sat with his back against Duncan's chest, held in his arms. 

'Be there? I really don't know.' Rhys trailed a hand down Duncan's arm. He put his head back against Duncan's shoulder and closed his eyes for a moment. 

Duncan started to undo Rhys' braid, pulling the strands through his fingers, untangling the little knots. He kept at it until the braid was completely undone, pushed both hands into Rhys' hair, gently tugging on it. It was just the right way to be touched for Rhys right now, comforting and intimate but not too intense. Parting the hair into strands again, Duncan twined them around each other into a new braid.

Rhys sat hugging his knees and let Duncan work while he watched the garden. The plants swayed in a light breeze that carried the smell of cooking from below. One of their neighbours was having actual meat in their stew for dinner. A couple of pigeons landed among the garden's crates and boxes and picked at the weeds Rhys had pulled, cooing at each other.

When Duncan had finished the braid, he let it slide through his hands. 'Listen, I'm sorry I never paid any attention to you being afraid of losing your temper. I didn't really know what to say. I was so damn busy with myself.' His fingertips pushed through Rhys' undercut into his hair, massaging his scalp. 'And now I still don't know what to say except that it doesn't change a fucking thing about how I feel about you. I'm not scared and I still trust you.'

Rhys was still for a moment, didn't turn around. Then he leaned back and pulled Duncan's arms around him, wrapped himself in their embrace. 'I don't know what to say either. I feel awful about attacking you and I don't think that will go away any time soon. But thank you for saying this.'

They sat for a while longer in the sun, lost in their own thoughts and keeping each other company. Eventually, they got to work repairing the garden.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta read by [Tyellas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tyellas/pseuds/Tyellas)
> 
> The mood board is for chapters 6-10. Title from [We Walk Again](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6bmRv4cFzuc) by Inkubus Sukkubus.
> 
> CONTENT INFO: explicit smut, discussion of rape and past abuse, graphic violence, some gore


	7. Open Up Your Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _'I miss waking up with you.' Duncan had put his commlink aside and had been watching Rhys for the last couple of minutes. Rhys had tried to ignore it because he had known this would be unpleasant._  
>  Another hard conversation as Rhys faces up to his past.
> 
> Content info in the AN!

Huddled under the old blanket that still smelled slightly of ginger from when he had spilled tea on it, Rhys waited for dawn. There was an open book in his lap, but he was only looking at the page, not taking in a single sentence.

He couldn't sleep. 

He could _fall_ asleep, nestled into Duncan. But at 2am at the latest, sleep was over for him. The nightmares woke him and he never felt like trying to sleep again. Instead, he either just lay awake listening to Duncan's breathing or he got up and read on the couch. Usually, sleep stealthily took him again some time before dawn, but it had been a while since he had gotten any real rest. 

About a month. Since the day he had attacked Duncan. That was one reason for the nightmares. The other was Graham and he really had thought he had been done with that. Rhys hated how much Graham was a presence in his life again and this time, he couldn't run away from him.

When he finally did nod off again, it was a light, fitful sleep.

He was woken by the sound of the bedroom door and Duncan's quiet footsteps. When he peered out from under the blanket, he saw Duncan going through his morning Tai Chi routine. Rhys settled back to watch and to enjoy the peace and quiet for a bit more. Duncan moved fluidly through his forms, giving the distinct impression of tamed power. Strength channeled into an elegant, calming dance. Every gesture formed with a grace that few people except Rhys ever got to see.

When Duncan finished, Rhys was almost disappointed. But it did mean that he was getting first a kiss and then tea and cornflakes brought to him.

'Did you get some sleep at least?' Duncan sat down next to Rhys, with his own bowl of cornflakes and a green tea, less heartstopping than what Rhys preferred. 

The first sip of oversteeped black tea, made drinkable by milk and sugar, kicked Rhys' mind into gear. 'Eventually. I'll nap a bit later.' Which was a lie. Rhys didn't want to dream and wake up alone. But there was no need for Duncan to worry.

They talked a bit, made weekend plans and then Duncan left for work, promising to be home early and to bring groceries. Rhys sat for a while longer after the door had fallen shut behind Duncan, listening to the sounds of the house. The stomping from below as the troll living there got ready for work, kids leaving for school and making a racket on the stairs. Once all that had quieted down, he listened to the tick of their kitchen clock and the murmur of the plants. The spider fern was still feeling a bit off, its little clicking noises out of rhythm. Rhys got up, put his dishes away and started his day properly by checking what was wrong with the fern.  
  


* * *

  
  
After dinner, they ended up on the couch again, both too tired for anything else. A nap had left Rhys with a leaden heaviness in his limbs that even food and Duncan's company couldn't chase away.

'I miss waking up with you.' Duncan had put his commlink aside and had been watching Rhys for the last couple of minutes. Rhys had tried to ignore it because he had known this would be unpleasant.

'Yes, well, it's not my fault I can't get any sleep at night. Don't you think I'd prefer just _sleeping_ until the morning?' Rhys' tone was sharp, much sharper than he had intended. He snapped his book shut.

'I didn't mean it that way.' Duncan had flinched, raised both hands. 'I just don't know what else to say. You keep telling me it's fine and that you're just going to get some sleep during the day. But it's _not_ fine. You're having nightmares, it's fucking you up and you won't even talk to me. Again.' Now Duncan was angry, too, his voice no longer calm.

'I don't know what there is to talk about. What I dream about? It's bad enough seeing you die in my dreams, I don't particularly want to have to paint a picture for you. It won't help anyway.' Rhys pulled his knees up to his chest, folding in on himself.

Duncan was silent for a long time. 'Wow. That hurt. Do you really think that? That there is nothing to talk about?'

'What do you want to hear? How sorry I am for attacking you and how much I wish I could make it undone? How scared I am every day that it's going to happen again? How scared I am that Graham is going to be there, every time I wake up from these nightmares?' Rhys stopped short of actually yelling, but it was a close call. Lashing out at Duncan was very satisfying.

'I don't want to hear anything. I just want you to stop shutting me out.' Every bit of satisfaction melted away at the tone of Duncan's voice, raw and quiet. Deep slashes of blue pain opened in the flickering violet of worry in Duncan's aura at Rhys' words.

Rhys stood up slowly and walked to the window, staring out onto the street below. Duncan's worry tugged at him, icy spots on his skin that sunk into him, cooling his anger. 'I'm sorry. This isn't your fault. I was wrong to yell at you. You just want to help and I apologise for pushing you away.'

Duncan came up behind him, the warmth of his aura wrapping itself around Rhys even before Duncan embraced him from behind. 'Tell me if this is a stupid idea. But can you really draw me a picture of the dreams? Sketch them, I mean? Maybe that's easier than putting them into words?'

Rhys leaned back into him. 'I can try.' He turned in Duncan's arms, pressed his face against Duncan's neck. 'I'm terrified of uncovering more things I have kept buried. I don't think there are more, but what if there are.'

Duncan squeezed him. 'I think you need to look. We can handle this, I promise.'

The smell of Duncan's skin, with a hint of leather and beeswax, soothed Rhys. 'Hold me a bit, okay?'

Duncan did, until Rhys yawned. 'Let's try and get some sleep.' Without waiting for an answer, Duncan picked him up and carried him to the bedroom. Rhys was too exhausted to argue and having Duncan take care of him was much too comforting. 

He let himself get tucked into bed.  
  


* * *

  
  
The first thing Duncan saw when he came out of the bedroom the next morning was a bear's backside. Rhys had conjured up his spirit bear to keep him company in the night. Duncan was glad of it. He had gotten used to seeing the bear when Rhys was worried or anxious. It had been a bad sign that Rhys hadn't called it sooner.

He walked around the animal, trailing his fingers through its fur. Rhys came into view, sitting between massive paws, leaned against the bear's belly. Paper was scattered around him. Duncan stepped carefully between the pages. 'Good morning. Hello, Artrí.'

The bear gave a deep rumble. Rhys smiled up at Duncan and started gathering up the sketches. 'Good morning. I - took your advice. Do you want to look at them?' He looked every bit as exhausted as yesterday, charcoal smudges on his fingers and his face. But he also seemed calmer, less tense.

'If it's okay with you, yes. Very much.' Duncan staggered when Artrí leaned into him and shoved his massive head under Duncan's hand, asking for ear scritches. While Rhys finished picking up the littered pages, Duncan hugged the bear and pushed his nose into his soft fur, smelling his wild musk. 'Do you want breakfast?'

'How about this, I give you the sketches and go for a walk. I'll bring breakfast when I get back. I think I don't want to be around when you look at them. But I want to have it out of the way so we can talk? I'm sorry, it's a shit way to start the weekend.' Rhys held the pages out to Duncan.

With a last pat to the bear's head, Duncan took them. 'No, it's okay. Let's do that.' He put the sketches on the table and pulled Rhys into a hug. 'Bring back some pastries? I'll make pancakes.'

'Sure, that sounds good.' Rhys got dressed while Duncan made himself some tea and shared a few cookies with Artrí. Before he left, Rhys came to steal a cookie and a kiss. 'I'll be back in an hour or so.' 

Artrí gave Duncan a look after Rhys was gone, nudged him again and then walked away, dissolving into nothingness on his way through the wall. He left behind an earthy smell, hairs on Duncan's clothes and the distinct impression that he was just as worried as Duncan.

Sitting down on the couch, Duncan took a deep breath. 'Okay. Here we go.'

He turned over the sketches in his hands, looked through them, careful not to smudge them. Rhys hadn't spend much time on details, but the powerful, elegant charcoal lines delivered the message just as well. Each sketch was a punch to Duncan's guts.

Rhys, standing over Duncan. Magic curling around his hands, a snarl of rage on his face.  
Duncan lying amidst smashed and scattered flower pots, one hand raised, pleading with Rhys.  
Duncan dead or dying, a burned, beaten and broken ragdoll of a body.

Seeing this through Rhys' eyes brought home to Duncan what even the attack hadn't. Rhys _was_ perfectly able to kill him. One well-aimed spell to bring him down, another to finish him off, if Duncan was unlucky. A couple of seconds and it'd be over. It didn't make him afraid of Rhys, but it made him understand in a way he hadn't before just why Rhys was so scared.

He turned the next page over.

The rest of the sketches were erotic, showed Rhys with another ork. Having heard Rhys talk in his sleep at times, Duncan assumed it was Graham. Rhys hadn't given him a face and it made Duncan shudder.

Despite that, there was a certain pleasure to seeing these sketches. It was almost like actually seeing Rhys with another man, being allowed to share Rhys' fantasies. Rhys on his hands and knees, Graham taking him from behind. Rhys sucking Graham's cock, looking up at him, Graham's fingers buried in Rhys' hair, holding him in place. Graham on top of Rhys, fingers digging into Rhys' hips, pulling him close. Duncan had done this so many times, he could hear Rhys moan, taste the salt of his sweat. Knew just how Rhys' muscles would squeeze his cock with every thrust.

There were subtle signs that Rhys in the sketches was not truly enjoying himself. Hands fisted into bedsheets, tense muscles, clenched jaw, a hand held against Graham's chest in a futile gesture, silently asking him to stop. In the very last sketch, Rhys had his face turned away from a kiss, looking out into the real world. Duncan turned the page over with a gasp, hiding from Rhys' gaze.

He leaned back and closed his eyes, shame and disgust trying to squash any excitement he was feeling. What remained was a sick feeling in his gut, a half-hard cock and the sketches burned into his memory.  
  


* * *

  
  
Rhys returned to Duncan setting the table in the kitchen, a bowl of pancake dough resting on the counter. But one look at his face was enough to tell Rhys that things were not okay. 'What's wrong?' He put the bag with pastries down and took Duncan's hand.

'I get why you're so afraid now. I mean, really get. Still doesn't change a thing about how I think of you.' After giving it a squeeze, Duncan let go of Rhys' hand and crossed his arms. 'But the other sketches, the ones where you have sex-' He broke off, looking at the floor.

'Does it bother you that it's not with you? Or how erotic they are?' Rhys spoke softly. 'I can understand both of that.'

Duncan took a deep breath and met Rhys' gaze. 'It's rape and I still liked looking at them. That bothers me.' 

Rhys nodded slowly. 'I know. It's what bothers me, too. I should have warned you, I'm sorry. But I was so glad to be done with it and to get away from it.' He sat down at the table, turned sideway on the chair to face Duncan. 'In those dreams, I can only watch and I enjoy what I see. It turns me on. I wake up with a hard cock and so much shame. I can't get the images out of my head.'

'Neither can I.' There was some relief in Duncan's voice and he sat down, reached across the table for Rhys' hand again. 

'Don't get me wrong, but I am kind of glad to hear you say that. It makes me feel less alone. Less broken.' Rhys pulled his legs up on the chair. 'All of this - I thought I knew why I like what I like. Then it turned out I didn't. And I asked myself, am I looking for another Graham?' He turned to Duncan, squeezing his fingers. 'Which you are _not_ , don't think I'm saying that. I just wonder if I kept pushing us into playing with this, with being forced, because it's what I need? Do I need someone who just takes whatever he wants?'

'You know that's not true.' Duncan got up so fast that Rhys thought he was angry. But he just walked around the table, hunkered down in front of Rhys so he could take both his hands, very gently brought Rhys to face him, open up and not barricade himself behind his knees. 'This is still Graham talking, the ideas he put into your head. Don't let him in again, don't do that to yourself.'

'He's already in there. And I really thought he wasn't, can you believe that? Spirits, I'm such an idiot. I thought that I had it all figured out, left it behind me just because I didn't think about it all that much anymore.' Rhys hugged his knees to his chest again and leaned his forehead against them, shutting himself in. The tears came unbidden and in a flood, big heaving sobs wracking Rhys' body.

'No, please don't cry-', Duncan patted him awkwardly, the only thing he could do with Rhys curled up into a ball. Right now, Rhys didn't feel like letting him in. Not because Duncan had _done_ anything but because Rhys had just made things that much more complicated and he was ashamed of it. 

Even with his eyes closed, Rhys could tell Duncan stood up again because the sunlight got blocked. It was a narrow fit, but Duncan squeezed himself between Rhys' chair and the wall behind it so he could rub circles on Rhys' back with his palm. He kept it up until Rhys quieted down a bit and unfurled enough to lean into him.

'I'm sorry.' The tears still choked Rhys and the apology was barely audible.

'What for? There's nothing you need to apologise for.' Duncan sounded honestly confused. 

Rhys patted himself down for a tissue and blew his nose. 'I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. I shouldn't have let you see those drawings.'

'Let's not go back to keeping this shit to yourself, okay? It's out there now and we can deal with it. Not that I have a solution, but we're going to come up with something.' Duncan extracted himself from his position to give Rhys some space.

With a shaky breath, Rhys got up and hugged him. 'Maybe talking about it did help. I do feel a bit better. It's going to take longer than I thought for me to, I don't know, find myself again. This feels like I've built so much of my life on quicksand and now it's all coming down.' He pulled Duncan closer. 'Except you.'

'I'm here. I won't go anywhere.' With Rhys leaning into him, Duncan's fingers traced Rhys spine, up and down his back. He wound Rhys' braid around his hand, gave it a gentle tug. 'I'll also make you breakfast now because you need it. You'll feel better with some food.'

It took a little while until Rhys let go of him, but eventually Duncan was busy making pancakes. Rhys nibbled one of the pastries while he watched, thankful for the excuse Duncan had given them to take a break. He didn't think he was done with this by any means, but he'd gone as far as he could today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Betaread by [Tyellas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tyellas/pseuds/Tyellas)
> 
> Title from [Vampyre Kiss](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HTnSl5_09sY) by Inkubus Sukkubus.
> 
> CONTENT INFO: discussion of past rape and abuse


	8. Breath of Wanting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Duncan shoved a hand down Rhys' pants, curled the other in Rhys' hair, messing up the braid. 'Again, that is your problem, not mine. You can leave when I'm done with you. It's up to you how long that takes.'_  
>  Duncan and Rhys test the waters of more intense scenes.
> 
> Content info in the AN!

'I miss playing with you as the top. I thought about this a lot and I really miss it. Not just because it's fun but because it's good for us. Switching around like that, even if it's only once in a while - it balances us, everywhere. Not just in bed.' Rhys hugged a cushion to himself, clearly nervous. He hadn't brought this up for months. 

'What are we talking about, exactly? Just me being the top or us playing around with me forcing you?' Duncan was conscious of how wary he sounded, but he couldn't help it. At the same time, hearing Rhys say this gave him a thrill of anticipation. He had been able to tell something was up all morning but he had also learned that Rhys wasn't going to be rushed. So he had waited all the way through breakfast, until Rhys had asked him to sit down with him on the couch.

'Both. If you're comfortable with it, both. We definitely need to talk about how we set the scene, but if you're up for this, I would love to have you just ... take what you want.' Rhys was rarely so cautious. Clearly, he knew how much a minefield they were navigating.

Duncan smoothed his mohawk down while he thought, part of his brain making a note that he had let it grow a bit long. 'I know you told me that you like doing this because it's safe with me. Let's assume for now that we can actually make it safe this time - I still don't get why you would want to do it. More or less have me do what Graham did to you.' He inched closer, close enough to run his fingers over Rhys' arm and to take his hand. 'I'm sorry, I'm not being difficult on purpose here.'

'I know.' Rhys smiled and gave Duncan's hand a squeeze. 'Can I ask you a question in return?' He waited for Duncan to nod. 'We pretend that I keep you captive. That I break your will until you do what I want. Let's not kid around, this is absolutely rape play, it's just more messing with your head than physical violence. And it's not something you would ever want to happen to you for real. Losing control like that is something you deeply fear. So why do you enjoy this so much?'

The question took Duncan by surprise and he straightened up. 'I- Um, this is complicated.' He had to take a moment to try and put it into words while Rhys waited, pulling threads from the ratty blanket they both loved too much to throw out.

'Ok, I don't know if this makes sense because I never thought about this much before. I give up control every time we play, but this is even more intense. Don't laugh at me, but I learn things about myself. About why I need to be in control of things and what might happen if I'm not. This is about a lot more than just sex.' Duncan had never put his motives under this much scrutiny and he was ill at ease with what he found. He hadn't quite realised before how deep this went.

'It's about more than just sex for me, too. I will never get rid of my experiences with Graham and it's scary to think about. So much so that I just buried parts of it. Which I shouldn't have done. But playing with these things with you allows me to investigate it, to think about it in a different context. One that isn't immediately connected to my past. I'm playing a role and that puts it at a safe distance.' Rhys traced the lines of Duncan's palm, didn't look up while he spoke. That gave Duncan privacy and he appreciated it, it made it easier to figure all this out when Rhys didn't watch him. 

Neither of them spoke for a while but it wasn't an awkward silence. Just a pause for thought. Duncan cleared his throat. 'Safe distance, yeah. That's what I like about it. It's somewhere between real life and just watching a trid. Real life is too much, a trid is not enough. Something like that.' 

He reached out to Rhys, made him look up with a gentle touch to the face. 'Can we start slow? We just jumped into the deep end last time and that didn't help when things started to go wrong.'

'Sure. I don't think I'm ready for a scene where you overpower me - I want to try it again later, but not right now. But you giving orders and I can chose just how obedient I'm going to be, just how much I want to provoke you, I can handle that. I _want_ that because I love pushing you to see how hard you push back.' Rhys' had finally put away the cushion.

Duncan took this as an invitation to pull Rhys towards him until he leaned against the armrest of the couch, Rhys in his arms, his back against Duncan's chest. 'You love being an annoying little shit and you're good at it.'

'It's why you love me.' Rhys snuggled against Duncan, turned on his side, one hand disappearing under Duncan's shirt.

'Among other things, yes. You are also very attractive when you regret being an annoying little shit and try really hard to please me.' His nose buried in Rhys' hair, Duncan slowly sunk into the sofa until he was stretched out with Rhys on top of him. They were both more than content with staying like this while the morning passed them by and the world took care of itself for a little bit.  
  


* * *

  
  
'Fuck, I've got to go get dressed, I have an appointment!' Rhys pushed himself up suddenly. Duncan had dozed off and tried to hold on to him, still half asleep. It took a moment to untangle their limbs and Duncan didn't make it easy, but Rhys eventually managed.

When Rhys came into the living room after a quick shower and a change of clothes, Duncan was still on the couch, idly tapping on his commlink. Rhys was busy checking the time and throwing a few things into a backpack and didn't pay much attention to him. 'If I hurry, I can pick up the books I ordered before- what?'

Duncan had caught him, his hands sliding from Rhys' hips to his ass. Rhys hadn't even heard Duncan get up, let alone noticed him approach until he was suddenly standing there, stopping Rhys in his tracks. 'Where did you hide that outfit until now?' Duncan pushed until Rhys had to start walking backwards.

Rhys was wearing dress pants, a vest and shirtsleeves. Everything about this brought out his figure, he was well aware of that. His ass, his slim waist and his broad shoulders in particular. He made a mental note to wear this next time they played.

'I didn't _hide_ it. And as much as your reaction delights me, I have to go or I'll be late.' It wasn't entirely true. Rhys didn't try to free himself, pulled Duncan closer. Together with his grin, it was a clear invitation to ignore his protest.

Duncan took that invitation and kept pushing. 'I don't see how this is my problem.' 

Rhys was backed into a corner, nowhere left to go. Duncan was right in front of him, right in his personal space. Looming over him, despite their almost equal height. 'I really have to leave now?' Rhys swallowed and jumped when Duncan won the fight with the buttons of the dress pants. His cock was already hard enough that the tight pants had been getting uncomfortable.

Duncan shoved a hand down Rhys' pants, curled the other in Rhys' hair, messing up the braid. 'Again, that is your problem, not mine. You can leave when I'm done with you. It's up to you how long that takes.'

A sudden flash of cold fear ran through Rhys, stirring up memories. He put his palm on Duncan's chest, ready to push him away. It lasted only for a second. The fear was gone when Duncan's expression immediately softened and his grip relaxed. This was _Duncan_. Before he could ask, Rhys pulled him close again, kissed him. 'I don't have time to change my clothes...'

Duncan growled, so low Rhys could feel the sound vibrating in his chest. 'Then you better swallow when you're done sucking my cock.'

But he didn't allow Rhys to move just yet. He pushed Rhys' pants and briefs down until they fell around his ankles. One hand around Rhys' cock, stroking and playing, he leaned close again. 'And you don't get to come. That would be too much of a mess.'

Rhys moaned and put his head against Duncan's shoulder, hands busy opening Duncan's pants. 'Please, may I suck your cock?' The urgency in his voice came both from lust and from the fact that he absolutely needed to leave in ten minutes. 

He tried to kneel but Duncan shoved him back up against the wall. 'I'm not done yet. Hands behind your back. Look at me.'

Rhys did as he was told. For once, he didn't have a snarky comment, no smart quip to make. While his cock got stroked into a full erection, Rhys was held in place by Duncan's arm across his chest. There was just enough pressure to maintain the fantasy but not enough that he couldn't have easily freed himself if he had wanted to. 

What really held him, much more than the pressure, was the look in Duncan's eyes. They seemed even darker than usual, pupils blown. Duncan watched Rhys with the intensity of a predator waiting for a chance to attack. 

When Rhys started to rut into Duncan's hand, he got punished with a bite to the throat. Duncan pounced so quickly that he took Rhys by surprise, overwhelmed him with sheer ferociousness. The bite wasn't hard enough to break the skin or even leave a mark, but Rhys gasped and whimpered anyway. He raised his chin in a gesture of submission, offering himself to Duncan. For a second, Duncan pushed hard, put his weight on the arm holding Rhys against the wall before he suddenly let go.

Rhys had to stay leaned against the wall, his knees threatening to buckle. Duncan still watched him with the same fierce gaze, clearly savouring Rhys' loss of control over himself. He stepped closer again, trailing a finger up Rhys' cock while he kissed him, very gently. 'It's a shame we don't have more time or I'd fuck you until you come. You can kneel down now.' 

Duncan waited until Rhys was on his knees. Then he waited some more, gave Rhys time to become restless as Duncan stroked himself, slowly, just teasing. Rhys was very conscious of how much control he was about to hand over to Duncan. But what made his pulse race was anticipation, not fear. Watching Duncan touch himself, his hand circling his thick shaft, pulling the foreskin down from the engorged tip, Rhys caught himself licking his lips. 

'Look at you, so eager for my cock.' It hadn't escaped Duncan, either, and his slow, dangerous smile sent a shiver down Rhys' spine.

At this point, Rhys was almost ready to simply cancel his appointment, his cock throbbing and twitching. The thought of being left like this made him shudder. He had done it to Duncan often enough and just like Duncan, he squirmed, wanting to be touched and knowing he wouldn't get his wish. 

He obediently opened his mouth when Duncan told him to. It took him a moment to adjust when Duncan's cock pushed in, but not long. He was good at this, moved forward until he had swallowed it to the hilt. Graham had liked to make him choke, so Rhys had gotten used to taking a cock deep down his throat.

There was a hand in his hair and he tensed up, expecting to be held in place until he struggled to breathe. It had been Graham's favourite game, one Rhys had pretended to enjoy. But Duncan only lightly caressed him, let Rhys have control. It steadied Rhys in the present, helped him shove the memories aside.

He started to suck, just on the tip, until Duncan was shuddering. Then he took him deeper again, let Duncan's cock slide in and out of his mouth, never letting go completely. 

Duncan wrapped Rhys' braid around his hand, used the other to brace himself against the wall. Rhys wanted to touch him, but he kept his hands behind his back and was content with hearing Duncan's moans become louder, making him twitch and flinch with just a touch of his tongue.

He didn't mind Duncan thrusting into his mouth, put his head back so he could take him deeper. He had lost track of time and right now, he didn't care. So far, he had managed not to get any spit or precum on his clothes, but it got harder as Duncan moved faster. 

'Touch me.' Duncan's order came in a breathless, desperate voice and Rhys hurried to obey. Caressing Duncan's balls, the skin soft under his fingers, Rhys did his best to make him lose control. When he managed it, when Duncan started to fuck his mouth, rut into it, there was no moment of panic for Rhys. He was gasping for breath and he gagged a few times, but it thrilled him to let Duncan use him like this. 

Duncan came, his cock deep in Rhys' mouth. Rhys sucked until he had every last drop, swallowed the hot cum. He followed when Duncan pulled back, eagerly licking the cock clean until Duncan pushed him down with a hand on his shoulder. 'Stop, please.' 

Rhys watched as Duncan caught his breath and tucked his cock into his pants again, with some difficulty. He fidgeted on his knees while Duncan returned to the couch after bending down to kiss him, wiping spit and cum off Rhys' lips and chin at the last moment before it dripped on his shirt.

'You can leave now. If you hurry, you'll make it in time!' Duncan's encouragingly chipper tone made Rhys glare at him while he tried to wrangle his cock into submission, cursing his choice of tight pants. Rhys heard Duncan actually _giggle_ as he hopped along, pulling up his pants on his way to picking up his backpack. 

'Rhys!' Duncan called out to him when he had his hand already on the doorknob. Rhys turned around and once again he had missed Duncan coming up right behind him. There was time for a last kiss before Duncan let him go with a slap to the ass. 'When you're back, I'll make dinner. And then I'll make you come.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Betaread by [Tyellas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tyellas/pseuds/Tyellas)
> 
> Title from [Breath of Wanting](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XyTWUyc63hA) by Inkubus Sukkubus.
> 
> CONTENT INFO: explicit smut, discussion of con non-con, discussion of past abuse


	9. Break My Anger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _'I'm sorry. I know you really want this, but it gets to me too much. Seeing you afraid. I know it's only an act, but my gut tells me different. And I'm scared of not being able to tell the difference.' Duncan petted Rhys' leg, comforting himself as much as Rhys._  
>  Touching a nerve.
> 
> Content info in the AN.

Rhys made a break for it, twisting his wrists out of Duncan's grip and running. Duncan was on him in a quick bound, tripped him up and caught him with ease when he fell. The involuntary gasp from Rhys when he lost his balance gave Duncan a thrill. A rush of adrenaline slowed down time, made him exquisitely aware of every movement, every detail. The sweet incense smell of Rhys hair, his hurried breathing, fingers digging into Duncan's arm, trying to break his hold. He pulled Rhys backwards to his chest and bit his neck, tasting salt. 

'This will hurt a lot more if you keep fighting. But I don't mind.' He grinned. After slowly amping up the intensity of their scenes over the course of months, they were back to this and he enjoyed the test of strength.

Rhys squirmed and tried to kick, but Duncan marched him forward until they hit the bed. He forced Rhys to kneel, bend over the egde of the bed, and held him down with one hand while he cuffed Rhys' hands on his back. That done, he picked Rhys up again and threw him on the bed, all in one movement too quick for Rhys to react. The hard landing forced the air out of Rhys' lungs. He didn't have time to get his bearings before Duncan was on top of him, holding him down on his back by simply sitting on him.

Rhys looked up at him, eyes wide, gasping for air. 'Please, don't- Let me go, please!'

When Duncan reached between Rhys' legs to give his cock a squeeze, Rhys turned his head away with a low, fearful whimper.

The sound stabbed Duncan's heart and he jerked back like he had been slapped. 'I can't do this. Redwood. I'm sorry.'

Rhys stopped struggling the moment he heard the safeword. 'Okay, let's stop.' He sounded calm and it made it easier for Duncan to get a grip.

After he had helped Rhys sit up and unlocked the cuffs, Duncan got off the bed. 'Give me a moment.'

He walked to the bathroom, didn't run so he didn't scare Rhys. Kneeling in front of the toilet, he waited for his body to decide if it was going to throw up. He was sweating and shivering, the memory of Rhys frozen while Duncan fucked him playing in his mind.

A couple of dry heaves later, he had calmed down enough to stand, splash his face with water and go back into the bedroom.

Rhys stood up to hug Duncan. 'Hey, it's okay. What happened?'

Duncan let himself be held, his head on Rhys' shoulder. 'I can't do this. I can't force you. Not like this, when you pretend you really don't want it. That you're afraid of me. It scares me too much.' He found it easier to say all this with his face pressed against Rhys' neck, breathing in his scent to calm himself.

'Let's sit, okay? On the couch, I think it'll be easier to talk there?' Rhys gave him a squeeze and Duncan nodded, took a last deep breath.  
  


* * *

  
  
They had settled on the couch, Rhys' legs stretched out over Duncan's lap. Duncan had had a little time to gather his thoughts, but he still searched for words.

'I'm sorry. I know you really want this, but it gets to me too much. Seeing you afraid. I know it's only an act, but my gut tells me different. And I'm scared of not being able to tell the difference.' He petted Rhys' leg, comforting himself as much as Rhys.

'Do you need more time or would you rather we don't try again?' Duncan thought he heard disappointment in Rhys' voice.

'I don't know, I really don't.' Duncan gave Rhys a sidelong glance, but didn't _see_ the disappointment. He took heart from that. 'I'm scared of getting used to it. Of not seeing the difference and hurting you again. Of it becoming a habit and spilling over into real life.'

Rhys thought about it for a while. 'Do you really think you wouldn't notice or that I would not _tell_ you? Hopefully without slinging a spell at you.'

'If you were afraid enough of me? Yeah.' The moment he said it, Duncan realised how deep this cut into the foundation of their relationship. 

Rhys pulled his legs under himself, sat up straight. Always a bad sign. 'I'm not nineteen any more. Believe me, you would know if you crossed a line.'

'You've never seen me at my worst. Don't be so sure of that,' Fear twisted Duncan's gut, of having gone too far, but he couldn't leave this unsaid. It upset him how easily Rhys discounted his worries.

Rhys opened his mouth for what would have been a heated reply, judging from his expression, and closed it again. 'I'm going to make tea, do you want some? We need a minute, both of us.'

'For fuck's sake, don't treat me like a child!' Duncan got up and stalked out of the room, slamming the bedroom door behind him. He leaned against it, a hand over his eyes. Rhys' ability to just take a break from an argument when it got out of hand was useful, but Duncan _hated_ it. It always made him feel even more aggressive and unable to control himself. And the way he reacted to it just proved that point.

Ten minutes spent tidying the bedroom calmed him down. Making the bed, he pulled the sheets tight enough he could have bounced a coin off of them. The mindless task allowed him to bring some order to his thoughts. He slunk back into the living room

The scent of tea, ginger and cardamom greeted him. Rhys had used the time to make chai and was sitting in his armchair with a mug in his hands. He looked up at Duncan, nodding at another mug next to the tea pot. A peace offering of sorts.

Duncan poured himself some of the tea, the sharp spicy smell cutting through the fatigue left behind by his anger. 

'I'm sorry I yelled at you. You were right about the break.' He sat down on the couch, at a little distance from Rhys.

'I probably could have put it better.' Rhys gave him a faint smile. 'I apologise for patronising you.' 

Rhys took a sip of tea and a deep breath. 'Okay, here's the thing: you think we are only together because I have no idea what you are capable of. But I _know_. Even if you hadn't told me, I can see the way you pull yourself together every time something pisses you off. When we fight. When someone is aggressive towards you on the street. We did runs together, I've seen you in fights. I've seen you overreact and I had to pull you out of fights. I have no illusions there.' Leaning forward, he put a hand on Duncan's leg, silencing the reply Duncan had lined up, his protestations.

'Let me finish this, please.' He waited for Duncan's nod of agreement before he continued. 'I can see all of these things. But I also see how much easier it is for you these days, how much calmer you are. Violence is your first instinct, probably always will be, but it's no longer your first choice. It's a major change from how you were when we met. And I am very sure it will take a lot more than me pretending to be afraid of you while we play for you to lose that.'

There was silence after Rhys had stopped talking. Eventually, Duncan got himself together enough for a reply. 'Are you- do you really think so?' He was completely taken aback and wanted to believe it very much. And this was Rhys talking to him, who was a better judge of Duncan's character than Duncan would ever be.

'I do. I'm not in the habit of telling you what you want to hear, you know that. But it's easier to see these things from the outside maybe?' Rhys unfurled from his chair and came to sit next to Duncan, one hand on his back.

'I'm- Yeah. It's hard to tell from where I'm standing.' Duncan leaned against Rhys, eyes closed. He needed to think about this, right now he didn't have the words for it. 'I trust you more than myself with this, truth be told. But can we still not play with this for a bit? I'm just uncomfortable with it. After what happened.'

Rhys gently took the mug from Duncan's hands so he could hug him. 'Sure. I _like_ it but it's not that important to me.'

Again, there was silence. A much more comfortable one this time, filled by the quiet scritching of Rhys' fingers in Duncan's mohawk and stubble.

'It's fine until you pretend to be scared. Just now - the manhandling and the fighting, that doesn't bother me. Or you saying that you don't want something. I'm fine with just ignoring that. I can be an asshole about it.' Duncan had curled up in Rhys' lap like an overly optimistic huge dog. 'We can do all that. I enjoy doing that.'

Rhys' smile was audible in his voice. 'In a delightful coincidence, so do I.' He snorted. 'When you tripped me and caught me, I thought I'd faint. That was _hot_. Please do that again.'

Duncan hummed with pleasure as Rhys' fingers hit the right spot behind his ear. 'Oh, I will. When you really don't expect it. I want to hear you squeal like that again.'

'I do not squeal.' Rhys flicked a finger against Duncan's eartip.

Duncan didn't even open his eyes. 'We'll see about that.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Betaread by [Tyellas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tyellas/pseuds/Tyellas)
> 
> Title from [Take My Hunger](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Oesz6G2ZEmU) by Inkubus Sukkubus.
> 
> CONTENT INFO: con non-con


	10. Love Will Endure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Rhys is sleeping normally, most of the time. When he wakes up from nightmares, he hugs Duncan and goes to sleep again._  
>  _Duncan, at random times, remembers they almost lost everything and cannot breathe. When that happens, he hugs Rhys and it calms him._  
>  Time passes, wounds heal.

'Let's go find Bear. He should be around here somewhere, he usually is.' Rhys starts down the hill towards the water and Duncan follows him slowly. They had been in their bedroom a moment ago, lying next to each other after Rhys has burned some incense to complete the ritual. The sudden change to standing on a hillside under a wide open sky leaves Duncan dizzy, but he doesn't take long to get his bearings.

The grass comes up to his shins and it smells sweet as they leave a trail that meanders over the hillside. A cool breeze comes up from the water, pleasant under the warm sun. The river flows quietly, but there's the low roar of a waterfall at the cusp of Duncan's hearing.

Birds call and Duncan hears the winding, melodious song of a bird close by. He spots it, sitting in a small tree, orange breast all puffed up. When he points it out to Rhys, they stand and listen for a moment before continuing on their way. This is very different from his last visit to a metaplane. That time, he almost died. Almost sacrificed himself for his father. This time, it's peaceful and he feels safe.

'Over there!' Rhys changes direction across the hillside towards a dip between it and another hill, overgrown by low shrubs. Bear is standing among them, busy striping the branches of leaves and blue berries, very delicately for such a big animal. 

For a time, he ignores them as they come closer but then he turns and ambles towards them. When Rhys is right in front of him, Bear rears up on his hind legs and hugs Rhys, huge paws gently placed on Rhys' back.

Duncan hangs back and watches. He recognises Bear from his dreams, just as he recognises the landscape. But he feels shy suddenly, doesn't want to intrude on Rhys' moment with his mentor. 

Rhys unwraps himself from the hug and turns to Duncan, holds out a hand to him. 'You're welcome here.'

When Duncan takes a step forward, Bear drops on all fours, paws thudding on the ground. His back still comes up almost to Duncan's chest. Duncan staggers when Bear gently headbutts him, hesitates and then pets him behind the ears. Bear gives a low growl, leans into Duncan and makes it very clear that more head scritches are required.

'It's good to see you again.' Duncan has hunkered down in front of Bear and murmurs into his fur, feeling awkward about speaking aloud. Bear smells just like he did in Duncan's dreams, like Rhys, with an undertone of Artrí's musk.

'I'm glad you came. Talking to you is much easier here.' The words arrive in Duncan's memory directly, not bothering to involve his ears. Bear's voice is surprisingly soft, not at all the gruff growl Duncan would have expected. He receives another nudge with Bear's massive head. 'Walk with me.'

Duncan looks at Rhys who waves him away with a smile. 'Go on. I'll stay here and overeat on berries.'

Bear leads the way down towards the river. Duncan walks next to him, a hand in Bear's fur, the huge muscles in Bear's shoulders shifting under his hand. Despite his size, Bear moves almost noiselessly, only the rustling of the bushes they walk through gives him away. In the silence, Duncan is tongue-tied. He's not uncomfortable, but he's not used to talking to Bear and he wonders if Bear is angry at him for hurting Rhys.

Bear stops at the river's edge and looks up at Duncan, dark brown eyes catching and holding Duncan's gaze. It's the same feeling as when Rhys looks at Duncan's aura and he shifts nervously, not sure what Bear sees.

'I cannot and will not tell Rhys what to do with his life. When he met you, I came to take a look and I liked what I saw. Underneath all that rage and desperation. Rhys is no stranger to both, you know that by now.' Bear's tone is hard to judge.

Duncan turns to look back at Rhys who's busy picking berries, patiently gathering a handful before eating them. He looks completely at ease and Duncan takes heart from that. 'I do. It almost cost us everything, his rage and mine.' He pulls his shoulders up with a shiver even though it's pleasantly warm.

'Almost.' Bear has watched Rhys for a bit and now turns to look out over the river again. 'But you both worked very hard to fix what was broken. You came to the end of the earth and you found your way back to each other. Be proud of that.' There's warmth in Bear's voice.

'I care about both of you. You are his and so, you are one of mine, too.' Bear's words leave Duncan a little overwhelmed, he hasn't expected this kind of approval. But it's very welcome. Meeting Bear and just being accepted means a lot more to him than he would have thought. It's a little bit scary, but mostly it just makes him happy.

Bear scrutinises Duncan for longer than is comfortable and Duncan is reminded of Raymond. But there is nothing like Raymond's constant pushing and criticism here. Just curiosity and affection. 'You do know that he is yours as well?'

Duncan nods. He doesn't trust himself to speak.

'Good. So, what are you going to do about it?' Bear's laughter at Duncan's surprise is a low growl of amusement. 'Just think about it. That is all I ask.' 

'I will.' If Duncan's honest with himself, he already knows what he will do, has known for a while. Doubt has kept him from it, doubt about himself, not about Rhys. But right now, that doubt is silenced and he decides to stop waiting for the right moment and make one himself.

Bear gives a content huff and leans into Duncan one last time before turning and walking away towards the forest. 'Go to him, he will take you home. You are always welcome here.'

Duncan stands until Bear disappear among the trees, then returns to Rhys. When he opens his mouth to say something, Rhys stops him with a finger to his lips. 'It's between you and Bear.'

There's the sweet taste of berry juice on Rhys' lips when Duncan kisses him. 'Let's go home.'  
  


* * *

  
  
It has been almost two years. 

Rhys is sleeping normally, most of the time. When he wakes up from nightmares, he hugs Duncan and goes to sleep again.  
Duncan, at random times, remembers they almost lost everything and cannot breathe. When that happens, he hugs Rhys and it calms him.

Rhys walks his own mind with confidence. There are still dark corners there, but no more doors he has walled off to imprison memories behind them.  
Duncan walks the fine line between his restraint and his darker urges, feeling the strength of both. He's aware of his violent instincts, but no longer afraid.

They visit Rhys' family who welcome Duncan just like Bear did. Their house feels like home to Duncan and Rhys happily watches him being a part of the family.

They take a vacation together, hike for two weeks in Sweden. They get lost in the woods, have a fight over nothing much, shouting at each other in a lonely clearing. A moose wanders into the clearing, curious about the noise. Their fight is forgotten, especially after Rhys walks into an anthill while they back away slowly from the moose. They can't help but laugh at themselves. After they make up, they talk about how they can avoid taking out their frustration on each other. It turns into a habit, creates a framework for communicating even when they are angry at each other.

They are more careful with each other and with their relationship. But they also trust the strength of it, trust it to survive the strain of problems. They know they are stronger together than they will ever be alone.  
  


* * *

  
  
They had had dinner on the roof, amidst the boxes and barrels of the little garden. Rhys lazily pops a strawberry into his mouth, picked right of the plant. 'That was delicious, thank you for cooking.'

Duncan smiles. He has been waiting for this moment all day long. Longer, actually - since they came back from visiting Bear. But now he cannot find words. It would be so easy to let this be a normal evening. A nice one, but a normal one.

He watches Rhys, busy picking some more strawberries. One rolls out of his hand and he catches it with a quick flick of his wrist, throws it up and into his mouth. Rhys is so damn graceful in everything he does and Duncan could spend the whole evening studying his smallest movements. 

Instead, he just says it before he has time to panic or back down. 'Rhys, would you marry me?'

And _then_ he panics, pulse racing. Time slows to a crawl as Rhys looks up at him, eyes wide.

Rhys has never looked more beautiful to Duncan than in this moment, smiling hugely and reaching for Duncan's hand. 'Yes. Yes, I would.'

He leans in and kisses Duncan, pushes him over on his back.

A while later, they are lying on their blanket, watching the clouds drift by. The sunset casts golden fire onto the sky and swifts circle high up, calling to each other. The roof is still warm under them and the air is full of the scent of earth and flowers.

Duncan starts. 'Fuck, I forgot, I have something for you!' He pats himself down. 'I was so relieved when you said yes...'

Rhys sits up. 'Did you think I might say no?' He watches Duncan with a little smile.

'You know me. Of course I did.' No amount of reasoning had been enough to switch off his anxiety over that. Especially at 2am when he couldn't sleep.

He finally has located the small package. 'You once said you didn't like wearing rings. And you gave me Winston, so I thought- Plus the obvious reason.' He forces himself to shut up.

Rhys unwraps the package and smiles at the little bear carved out of reddish stone, ambling along on all fours not unlike the bear on Rhys' back. Its smooth polish makes it glow in the evening light.

'I love it. It's beautiful, where did you find it?' Rhys traces its outline with his fingers, holds it up to look closer at it. 

'I made it.'

'You- what?' Rhys is so surprised he can only stare at Duncan for a minute, the bear balanced on his palm. 'I didn't know you could do something like this?'

'Neither did I. I looked it up, there are courses you can take on the Matrix. I gave it a try. And this one kind of wanted to be made.' Duncan blushes and blushes some more when Rhys puts the bear very carefully aside and hugs him.

'Every time I think I know you, you surprise me. Thank you!' Rhys leans back and looks at Duncan, hazel eyes shifting to blue under the open sky. 'I love you.'

Duncan tucks a strand of hair behind Rhys' ear, caressing him. 'I love you, too.' Now it's his turn to push Rhys over. Locked together in an embrace, kissing deeply, they lose themselves in each other. Overhead, the sky turns first purple, then deep blue. The little bear watches them from among the strawberries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from [Love Will Endure](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YDDHRy9k4nM) by Inkubus Sukkubus.
> 
> A big thank you to [Tyellas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tyellas/pseuds/Tyellas) who betaread all of this, encouraged me, wasn't afraid to say when something needed to be cut or rewritten and made my writing better. I learned so much writing this fic!
> 
> [Raunchyandpaunchy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raunchyandpaunchy/pseuds/raunchyandpaunchy) and [Crimsonherbarium](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crimsonherbarium/pseuds/crimsonherbarium) read early versions of the first few chapter, yelled at me and told me to make it hurt more. Thank you for your support!
> 
> And thank you, everyone who read this, gave kudos or even commented on it, I appreciate all of you so much. I hope you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing.
> 
> In two weeks, I'll starts a Mad Max Wasteland AU story with Duncan and Rhys called Building a Ruin (probably 6 or 7 chapters). Shadowrun timeline content will be continued after that. Stay tuned :D


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